From The Past
by Dreamwraith
Summary: Two separate plans awaken and entwine after Frieza's death, leaving Goku and Piccolo to deal with their nightmarish results. But not even they could foresee disaster. It has come down to one final battle...how do you free a mind trapped by a demon? Fin.
1. Chapter One

This story is the end result of several months of work.  As far as I know, it's an original idea, and I hope you enjoy it.  As always, I greatly appreciate reviews, and flames are welcome so long as they are not vulgar or degrading.

Note:_ This story takes place just after the end of the Frieza Saga.  At the time that I wrote the fic, I hadn't even seen the very end of that saga, so I wrote my own adventure in after it.  I disregard almost everything after that.  If you don't like it, then don't read it.  I do not intend to change my story drastically from its original version.  Rating is for violence and language._

**Disclaimer:** There are only so many ways to say that I do not own DBZ or any of its characters.  So…I don't own it.  The closest I can possibly come to owning anything even remotely related to it is this story line and the fifty or sixty-some pages of paper that I have it written out on, plus the pencil.

**                                                                        "From The Past"**

**                                                                        By: Dreamwraith**

**Prologue**

            There is always something that will come back to haunt you, even when you believe you have put it behind you.  This is a tale of two such beings, both powerful enough to destroy the world, neither one willing to do so.  Their assignments were clear: one was to destroy all life on the planet known as Earth, and the other was to kill the first and prepare the way for Hell-On-Earth, a realm of vile demons and darkness.  Neither of the two completed their respective missions, and in doing so, or rather _not_ doing so, incurred the wrath of beings stronger than they.

            Son Goku, the Saiyan once known as Kakarot, was sent by his race to exterminate all life on Earth.  The Saiyans were a vicious warrior race, used by the tyrant Frieza in the planet trade business to "purify" a planet and ready it for his own purposes.  The infant landed on the planet and lost his memory after hitting his head, never again recalling the real reason behind his presence on the planet.  He grew up defending the planet and its people and keeping it safe from its own evils, believing himself to be a human, one of the natives of the beautiful planet.  This new mindset eventually led him to a confrontation with his brother, one of the few remaining Saiyans in the universe.  He teamed up with his arch nemesis, Piccolo, and together they defeated the strange man.  The price was high for Goku; he lost his life in the battle.  He was sent to train with the North Kai, known as King Kai, in the Afterlife, while his allies on the planet prepared for the arrival of the Saiyan's two partners.  He was brought back to life with the magical Dragonballs, only to find out that the new evil on the planet was none other than the Saiyan prince and the ex-commander of the Saiyan military.  Only two of his six allies survived: his son, Gohan, and his best friend, Krillin.  Even his former enemy, Piccolo, had fallen in battle.  He defeated the two Saiyans after a long and bloody battle, and the rest of the story is history…

            Piccolo, a Namek and a demon both, was created with his father's last vestige of energy.  "One day, my son…avenge your father…we can't lose our roots…" were the final words of Piccolo Daimao, Lord of Demons, as the egg that held his son was hurled far from the battleground.  The child's one goal in life, as given to him by the dying demon, was to eliminate Goku and establish a realm of darkness on the planet Earth.  He hated that man with a passion, and he trained day after day, working to become more powerful than the man who had killed his father.  After being defeated by Goku at the Tenka'ichi Budokai, he began training anew.  With the arrival of his adversary's brother five years later, his chance to destroy Goku came, and he took it.  As his most-hated rival lay dying in a pool of his own blood, though, he felt no satisfaction.  And he had yet to establish this Hell-On-Earth.  He was free of Goku for a year, but he never once attempted to take control of the world.  The rest of his tale is also history, for there are more important tales than his to be told…

            Those responsible for giving the two warriors their specific duties waited for many years for their own diabolical goals to be fulfilled.  As the years passed, however, they grew angry.  Kakarot had not purged the planet of all life, and Piccolo had not killed Goku and created Hell-on-Earth.  Day after day they watched for the destruction, and day after day they were disappointed.  Then one day, within mere hours of each other, the two powerful groups decided to do something about the "incompetence" of their wayward comrades.  That fateful day would change the defenders of the Earth forever…

            And standing quietly on his planet in the Afterlife, antennae stiff and glowing with incoming information, King Kai felt an evil stirring in the universe, an evil that had not been felt in years - one capable of destroying the Earth's defenders.  So he waited, waited for the day when the evil would rear its ugly head, as it always did in his Quadrant of the Universe.  Then it would be the task of his students to destroy it, as they always did.  But would they be strong enough?  Only time could tell…

**Chapter One**

            Goku watched with emotionless green eyes as Frieza was slowly disintegrated in his blast.  "You could have chosen the path of life, Frieza," he murmured into the wind.  "You could have chosen to forsake your evil ways, but you did not.  Selfish bastard.  May you be judged swiftly by King Yemma."  The mighty Super Saiyan put an extra burst of energy into the _ki_ ball, and he held the attack steady until he could no longer feel the _ki_ of the evil creature.  Even so, he was not entirely sure that Frieza was truly dead.  The logical part of Goku was telling him that the planet was about to explode, but his conscience told him to do a quick sweep of the area.

            Goku was on the planet Namek, the place that Kami hailed from long, long ago.  Through a series of unfortunate and outrageous events, beginning with the arrival of his brother Radditz and culminating in this, the unsuspecting "human" had learned that he was, in fact, a Saiyan, and a member of the most powerful warrior race in the universe.  He had died with his older brother, spent a year training in the afterlife under the great King Kai, mastered the Kaio-ken and the Genki-dama, defeated the only other full-blooded Saiyan alive, traveled through space, and fought with the most powerful being alive _and won_, all within the span of a year.  And he was only in his mid-twenties.

            He was also the first Saiyan in over a thousand years to attain the legendary status of Super Saiyan.

            As he flew over the quaking ground of the dying world, Goku dropped out of his Super Saiyan form.  The once-shimmering, golden hair regressed to its original jet color, and his eyes darkened to their black coloring as well.  How had this all happened to him? he asked himself.  One moment he was just an ordinary (well, not _ordinary_, he amended) boy, and the next he was the strongest fighter alive.

            "Well, I suppose I could blame all of this on Piccolo," he said out loud.  "After all, if he had just kept his big mouth shut about the Dragonballs, none of this would have ever happened."  He then chuckled silently, remembering how he had heard, before his death, that his friends would resurrect him with those magical orange spheres.  He continued talking as he flew towards what was hopefully one of the pods used by the Ginyu Force.  "If he hadn't told Radditz, Radditz wouldn't have told Vegeta, and then Frieza would never have found out about the Dragonballs on Namek, and the Nameks wouldn't have been killed, and Gohan would have never been trained by Piccolo, and he wouldn't have had to wish everyone back with the Dragonballs, and I wouldn't have _ever_ been out in space ever again…hell, I'd still be on Earth right now, wondering about what I was going to eat for dinner!  Damn him!"  Of course, Goku said it all in jest – he had never been one to harm someone without a very good reason, and he wasn't about to start now.

            Without warning, a geyser of molten rock spewed forth from the ground in front of him, and he had to swerve violently to avoid being roasted alive.  "That was close!" he exclaimed.  "I'd better hurry!  This sucker's about to blow!"  Beneath him he could see that various sections of the earth below him were beginning to sink, only to be replaced by magma.  He frowned and increased his speed.

            The planet Namek was a mere minute away from its fiery end, and Goku knew it.  Within a few seconds, he spotted the landing site of the Ginyu force and heaved a sigh of relief.  Without even pausing to touch down, he flew full-speed into one of the ships, knocking it over and causing it to shoot off into the distance, closing the door even as he did so.  Topsy-turvy the Saiyan was, and he began pressing buttons in hopes that one of them was actually the launch button.  "Come on, come on, start already!  I don't have much time before this – shit!" he swore as the ground beneath the ship dropped at an alarming rate.  He could see the molten core of the planet closing in fast as the ship fell.

            Then, to his astonishment, the magma seemed to collapse in on itself.  "This can't be good!  Come _on_!" he screamed at the ship as he pounded on the console.  Even though he had only a bare minimum of education, Goku could tell that magma should not be able to do that.  The phenomenon only left him with one real option, then: Namek was exploding, and he was caught inside the blast radius.

            "Noooo!" he screamed again as the core began rapidly expanding outward.  He slammed his fists down on the console one last time.  Ever after that, Goku believed that miracles were possible even in the darkest of times, because against all odds, he had hit the hyperdrive launch.  He only had time to open his mouth in shock before his head hit whatever the top of the ship was at that particular instant.  Prying himself out of the metalwork, he pressed his face against the window in time to see the rapidly-disappearing planet meet its fiery end.

            Goku watched in awe as the mantle of the planet seemed to crumble before his very eyes.  Then, in a blazing nova of color, the core of the planet exploded, hurling pieces of the planet past the speeding space pod.  The ship was struck by several of the smaller pieces, but a strategically formed _ki_ shield managed to deflect most of the debris away from it.  After a few minutes, no more debris flew past, and all that was left was a dark space where no light touched…an epitaph to the once-beautiful planet.  The Saiyan heaved another sigh before he settled back into the seat.

            "Now," he said to himself as the pod hurtled through space, "I have two problems.  First of all, how do I work these controls?"  He pondered the thought for a while before continuing.  Looking out the window at the glittering stars, he added, "And how am I going to get home?"

* * * * *

Okay, that's the first chapter.  Let me know how I did with this one, please, and thanks for reading!

~Dreamwraith


	2. Chapter Two

Thanks for reviewing!  I'm sorry I didn't update this for a while…schoolwork comes first.  On to the story…

**Disclaimer:** I am a college student.  Akira Toriyama is not.  Thus it means that I cannot own DBZ because I am (logically) not him.

Note: _The first part of this chapter follows the original storyline rather closely.  I do have a twist, though, and the whole rest of the story works from that difference.  Enjoy!_

**Chapter Two**

            "You have summoned Porunga.  You shall be granted three wishes.  Speak them now!"  The massive green dragon towered over the small group of mortals huddled below him.  He was growing impatient.  After all, that blue-haired woman and the son of Goku had been explaining to his young summoner _exactly_ what they wanted.  In his midst, they figured out that wishing to life two people on a dead planet would only kill them again.  Porunga growled to himself, making several of the Earthlings jump in surprise.  It wasn't that he had a time limit in the physical plane, but he preferred not to spend long on it.  These people were taking their time, and in the process they were stretching his patience to its limit.

            "Speak, now!  I do not have the time to waste listening to you argue among yourselves.  Either make your wishes now, or wish for nothing three times so I may leave!" the dragon rumbled again, this time making his anger known by raising his voice.

            "Are those the wishes you want to make?" Dende asked.  "I don't want to mess up another wish because I didn't understand it right."  He reflected back upon the second wish he had ever asked of Porunga; the dragon was to bring the Namek known as Piccolo to the planet Namek to aid in the battle against Frieza.  He hadn't quite grasped the unspoken addition to the wish, though: Piccolo was supposed to have been brought to their very location, and Dende had neglected to speak it.  The way things turned out did make the Earthlings glad that Piccolo wasn't wished to that location with them, that he had found a dying Namek warrior on his flight to the battleground and had fused with him, among other benefits, but Dende had no desire to botch up another wish.  "You would like to wish Goku and Krillin to the check-in station in the Afterlife?  And then you would like to wish them both to this very place?"

            "Yes, Dende.  That is, if you don't mind," Gohan said, barely containing his excitement at being able to see his dad again.  It would be the first time in a long while that he would be seeing him outside of a fight, and he was looking forward to it.  He even began to bounce slightly as Dende began to speak the wish in the Namekian tongue.

            Standing far behind the Earthlings and the few Nameks that chose to accompany them to the summoning, Piccolo smirked.  The self-proclaimed demon had folded his arms across his chest in his usual stance of defiance, and he watched the scene before him with no small amount of interest.  _That's right.  Then I can match my strength against a "Super Saiyan", whatever that is,_ he thought.  True, Gohan had explained to him before what his dad had become, but Piccolo wanted to see Goku in that form with his own eyes.  Preferably, he would also like to fight him while he was in that form for the experience.  _And for the fun, although I should learn how to combat such a power.  Feh.  They don't even know that Vegeta is sitting inside that spaceship over there and is preparing to take off.  That man is most likely going to attempt to reach Goku's level, too, and he'll be coming back when he does._  Piccolo scowled at the thought of Vegeta, the power-crazed Saiyan prince, becoming a Super Saiyan as well.  It was quite possible that he could even surpass Goku's current level of power, and if that happened, the Earth's defenders would need all the help they could get.

            Piccolo stopped himself, surprised at his own train of thoughts.  _Since when did I start caring about what happens to this planet?_  He growled low in his throat and turned his attention back to the trio of figures in front of Porunga.  Apparently something had gone wrong with the wish, judging by the half-panicked exclamations coming from fully three-quarters of all those present.  Interested, he cocked his head slightly to the side so he could hear better what exactly had happened.

            "What do you _mean_ you can't wish Goku to the check-in station?" Chi-Chi screamed to the dragon.  "He's my _husband_, damn it!  Why can't you grant our wish?"  The woman known as Son Chi-Chi was furious.  She had waited for more than a year to have Goku home where he belonged, and now this dragon was telling them it wasn't possible?  Outrageous!

            Her father, the Ox-King, grabbed her arm before anyone found out what results her sudden movement towards Dende, Gohan, and Bulma would have been.  Aptly named, the man was several feet taller than even Piccolo, who stood well over seven feet tall.  His arms were the size of tree trunks, and he wore a massive horned helm on his head at all times.  "Chi-Chi, honey, don't you want to wait and hear what the dragon's explanation is?" he asked his struggling daughter.

            "No, Papa, I want my Goku back!" she snapped as she unsuccessfully tried to free her arm from his grasp.

            Bulma smacked herself on the head in exasperation.  "That woman is going to drive me crazy!" she told Gohan.  "I feel sorry for you, kid.  At least I don't have to live with her."  She then shook her head, slightly disgusted.

            "Why can you not grant this wish, Great One?" Dende asked in a trembling voice.

            "Because the one known as Goku is still alive.  To bring him to the check-in station would only kill him." Porunga growled for the third time that afternoon.

            The dragon's response was met with varied reactions.  Chi-Chi collapsed into her father's arms.  Master Roshi, Goku's old master and "dirty old man", and Oolong, the shape-shifting pig, both raised their eyebrows.  Pu'ar, a shape-shifting cat who was the companion of Yamcha, one of the deceased warriors, squeaked.  Gohan's and Bulma's jaws dropped.  Dr. Briefs, Bulma's father, and his wife simply stared at the dragon.  Piccolo didn't even blink.  The other Nameks began to talk among themselves as Dende asked the dragon if he was sure that Goku was alive.

            "Porunga, is it possible that you are wrong?  Is the one known as Son Goku truly alive?" Dende asked quickly.

            "Child, I have _never_ been wrong.  Now make your wishes so I may leave!"

            Dende turned around and looked up at Bulma.  "What should we wish for, then?  We really can't keep him waiting."

            Gohan answered before Bulma could recover from the shock of hearing that her long-time friend was still a resident of the land of the living.  "Why don't you wish Krillin to the check-in station with the first wish, wish him to life with the second, and then wish my dad to this spot with the third?" he suggested.  "Give that a shot!"

            Although Dende had no idea what giving the whole situation a shot would do to help, he assumed that his half-blood friend meant that the plan he had just outlined would be what he should do.  He raised his hands to the sky and began the wish in Namek: _"I wish that the human known as Krillin would be brought to the check-in station in the Afterlife!"_ he shouted.

            Porunga's eyes glowed bright red with the power he expended on the wish.  After no more than five seconds had passed, the glow began to fade from his eyes.  "It is done," his voiced boomed across the complex.  "State your second wish."

            _"I wish that the human known as Krillin would be brought back to life, to this very spot!"_ the young Namek shouted again.

            "It shall be done."  Once more the dragon's eyes glowed, and once more the glow faded.  A bright light flashed in front of the gathered Dragonballs, and when it faded, Krillin was standing before the group, looking about as amazed as everyone else was that he was alive again.  The short monk gingerly touched the hole in his armor, surprised that there was no blood, and looked up just in time to see a demi-Saiyan his size leap at him.

            "Krillin!" Gohan exclaimed, hanging on to the man for dear life.  "You're alive!"

            "Hiyah, kiddo!" Krillin exclaimed as he detached the child.  "It's great to be back!"  Then his tone changed to questioning.  "But look at you…last time I saw you, you were a rough-and-tough Saiyan warrior beating the snot out of Frieza, and now you're back to studies, hmm?"

            Gohan blushed a faint pink color.  "Yeah.  Mom has me studying again.  I missed a lot of calculus on our adventure, she says.  I'm almost caught up, though."

            Krillin opened his mouth to say something more, but Dende interrupted him.  "Hold off the reunion, guys," he told them.  "We still have one more wish to go.  When we bring Goku back, _then_ you can celebrate."  Once more he held his hands up to the dragon and shouted: _"I wish that the Saiyan known as Goku would be brought to this very spot!"_

            The dragon's eyes glowed red a third time, but Goku did not appear when the glow faded.  "Your wish can not be granted.  He is in a state such that moving him from his current location would be his death."

            "Say _what_?" Krillin cried.  "How can that be possible?"

            The whole of the crowd was shocked for a second time that afternoon.  What could the dragon possibly mean by that?  Was Goku mortally wounded?  Had something happened?  Could he be trapped between dimensions?  What _was_ going on here?

            Vegeta cursed to himself from inside the Capsule Corp. spaceship, forgotten by all gathered outside save Piccolo.  _That idiot!  How could Kakarot possibly put himself in such a situation?_  The Saiyan prince clenched his hands into fists, grimacing._  He's probably going to find some distant planet to train on so he can become even stronger!  Damn him!  He's made a mockery of me by first becoming a Super Saiyan and then by killing Frieza!  Can there _possibly_ be anything else he can surpass me in?_

            Vegeta set his course in the navigator before leaning back into the chair.  "Some day, Kakarot," he said to himself, "I will find you!  I will return to this pitiful planet again, and I will show you who the strongest Saiyan in the universe is!"  Then he slipped into the safety harness and pressed the buttons that would activate the launch sequence.  _Some day, Kakarot, some day…_

            The daze that had settled over the Earthlings was disrupted by the roar of the rocket thrusters on one of the space shuttles.  Each person in turn stared at the ship as it took off into space, leaving a trail behind it.  "Vegeta, you asshole!" Bulma shrieked, knowing fully well that he wouldn't be able to hear her.  "Where do you think you're going?  _Come back here!_  You're going to wreck that spaceship!"

            Piccolo, of course, laughed silently through the whole mini-drama that had unfolded itself.  _Thought so.  But damn that Goku.  Only he could get himself into that kind of situation.  What an idiot._

            "Well," Dende finally said, "what do we do now?"  He shrugged helplessly to indicate that he was clueless.

            Bulma stopped her ranting about how all men are imbeciles and glared at the young Namek.  "Why don't you just wish back one of the other fighters from this planet, shrimp?" she snapped.  "Can't you guys figure out _anything_ on your own?  Aaaarrgh!"  The blue-haired woman returned to her one-sided soliloquy about the evils of men in general, leaving two amused Earthlings and one thoroughly bewildered Namek to stare at her antics.

            "Do all girls do this?" Dende asked.

            Krillin stifled a laugh.  Nameks only came in one gender, so it was only natural that Dende knew absolutely nothing about females.  Still, it had amused Krillin on the day they met, and it didn't cease to amuse him now.  "I don't know, Dende," he replied truthfully.

            "I do _not_ have time for this foolishness!" the dragon roared, all but forgotten by the group below him.  "Make your final wish!"

            The trio standing directly below Porunga flinched, half-expecting him to flatten them into the tiled floor.

            _Hey, Krillin,_ came a voice.  _King Kai says it's okay to wish me back.  Tien and Chiaotzu decided to stay here for a while longer, and he says Goku's gonna be okay, at least until we can find some way of contacting him._

            "Okay, Yamcha.  Will do.  Nice timing, by the way."  Krillin grinned at the thought of seeing one of his oldest friends again.  Then he looked back at Gohan and Dende.  "You heard him, guys.  Go for it," he said, waving his hand in a shooing manner.

            Understandably, the whole concept of telepathy was rather new for Dende, and he only became more confused.  He had only experienced it once before, and that was when Guru, the recently deceased Namekian patriarch, had told him to wish everyone save Goku and Frieza to the planet Earth.  _These Earthlings are a paradox_, he thought._  I could probably spend my whole life here with them and still never learn all there is to know about them._  He sighed as he held up his hands for the final time that day.  _"I wish that the human named Yamcha was wished to this location!"_ he yelled.

            And for the final time that day, the dragon's eyes glowed and faded again.  "Your wish has been granted.  I bid you farewell."  With that final statement, Porunga's body suddenly melted into a glowing mass of golden light.  That light drew the Dragonballs upward into itself, and with a shrill whine, the magical orbs shot forth at seven different angles across the Earth, faster than the untrained eye could see.

            When the light faded, there was no sign of Yamcha.

            "Um, Dende," Krillin asked, removing his hand from over his eyes, "didn't the dragon say he – oh."  The monk cut off his sentence as he heard a loud splash from the pond around the side of the building.  He joined the now-running crowd of people, save Piccolo, Chi-Chi (who was still out cold), and the Ox-King (who was still holding her), as they rushed to the pond to see what the commotion was all about.

            Of course, they arrived at the pond to see none other than Yamcha, dripping wet, standing waist-deep in the water and trying to pull the seaweed out of his hair.  "Uh, hi," he said, more than a little embarrassed.  "What's the party for?"

            "Yamcha!" Bulma cried, launching herself at her boyfriend.  "You're alive!  This is great!"  To his credit, the soaked warrior managed to catch the airborne woman and keep the two of them from falling back wards into the water.  "I've missed you so much!" she gushed.

            "I missed you, too," he said with a smile as he began to rise out of the water.  He was just high enough that he was able to see Pu'ar running full-speed ahead towards him, and he braced himself for the impact that was sure to come.  She had, after all, been traveling with him since his desert bandit days, and she still traveled with him now.  The shape-shifter deserved some of his time, too.  Sure enough, Pu'ar dove into his arms and snuggled herself happily between himself and Bulma, and the trio enjoyed their happy reunion.

            "And to think this is going to happen all over again in a few months," Krillin commented.  "How fun that will be."

            True to Krillin's prediction, the Namekian Dragonballs were activated again after 130 days, the Namekian equivalent of a year.  The entire population of Namek was gathered before Porunga this time, because it was the day the Nameks would be given a new home.  Tien and Chiaotzu were brought back to life with the first two wishes, to the joy of the Earth's defending warriors, and there was only one wish to go.

            "Dende, I'm going to miss you," Gohan said as he held back a sob.  "You've been a great friend.  I'll never forget you!"

            "I will miss you, too, Gohan," the young Namek whispered.  Then he turned his gaze to the dragon before him.  "Porunga!" he shouted.  _"I wish that those living on the planet Namek would be taken to a new world, to be given to them as a new home!"_  Tears welled up in his eyes at the thought of never seeing his Earthling friends again, and he could no longer contain them.  As the wish was granted and the people of Namek began to disappear, a single tear rolled down his cheek and onto the ground as he said goodbye.  Then he, too, vanished, ready to continue his life on a new world with his people.

            Gohan stared at the wet stain on the tile for a long time.  He tore his stare away from it only when he felt a hand come to rest on his shoulder.  "You okay, kid?" came a familiar, gruff voice.

            "I'll be fine, Piccolo," the boy said softly.  "He needed to stay with his family, not here with me.  I just hope I'll see him again some day."  Gohan turned around and faced Piccolo.  "Why didn't you go with them?"

            The other warrior grunted.  "I might, eventually, but I'm not done here yet.  There are still so many things I have yet to accomplish in this place.  And besides, kid," he added with a smirk, "someone needs to make sure you keep up with your training.  You can't possibly study _all_ the time."

            That comment cheered Gohan up immensely.  "Thank you, Piccolo."

            Their moment together, however, was interrupted when Krillin called to them.  "Hey, guys, would you come over here for a minute?" the midget shouted across the lawn.

            _What could these weaklings possibly want now?_ Piccolo growled to himself as he and his student approached the rest of the Earth's special forces, where a debate had started over the situation with Goku.  Master Roshi was waving his arms about, trying to catch someone's attention.  Tien and Chiaotzu seemed amused with however the argument was going, and Krillin was attempting to placate Bulma, who was busy arguing with Yamcha.  Chi-Chi was just yelling in general, and the sharp cries she emitted were enough to make the stoic Namek cover his ears and wince in pain.  _This had damn well better be worth my time,_ he growled again.

            After five minutes of listening to their pointless bickering, Piccolo had had enough.  "SHUT UP!" he bellowed, effectively silencing the group.  He still had that effect on people; after all, he wasn't the Demon King for nothing.  "What in Kami's name are you trying to _do_?"

            "We've been trying to decide how we're going to find out what's happened to Goku," Krillin replied fearfully, apparently torn between whether or not he should run and hide from the fearsome Namek or stand his ground.

            "And I _said_ that we should just build a tracking device that will use DNA samples to track him down!" Bulma growled.  "We already have Gohan to use as a base.  The rest would be simple!"

            "And _I_ said that it would be best to just wish ourselves over to wherever he is when the Earth's Dragonballs are active again!" Yamcha growled back.

            Piccolo was aware that another altercation would begin if he didn't do something right then, and he already had a pounding headache._  How do I manage to get myself into these situations?  If it wasn't for Gohan, I would personally deal with the lot of them, one by one, and they wouldn't dare do this in front of me again.  I must be getting soft._  "And are there any _other_ ideas?" he snarled, fully aware that he had silenced the group yet again.

            "Yes, there is!" Master Roshi shouted, finally able to make himself heard now that the roar of the masses had ceased.

            "And what would _you_ suggest, old man?" Bulma snapped.

            Master Roshi chuckled.  "You all seem to have forgotten something.  Dragonballs and devices are nice for most things, but there's still something that has them all beat when it comes to finding people."

            "And what would this be?" Krillin asked.

            "A witch!"

            "What?" came the almost universal exclamation of surprise.

            "That's right," Master Roshi continued.  "I think it's high time we paid a visit to Uranai Baba."

* * * * *

Ah, a long chapter.  Anyway, after this, the story deviates from the manga and etc.  Please review and let me know if you like it.  Thanks for reading!

~Dreamwraith


	3. Chapter Three

Many thanks to my reviewers!  Sorry I took so long in updating again.  I've been busy with midterms, and on top of that, I hit writer's block so hard that my head spun.  I also figured that I should pay attention in class rather than outline a chapter for the story, so you'll just have to bear with me.  Class comes first.

Reviews and _constructive_ flames are welcome.

Okay, enough with the rambling again, and on to the story.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of Toriyama's characters, nor do I own his plot or ideas.  Deal with it.

**Chapter Three**

            "What do you mean, we're going to see Uranai Baba?" Bulma shrieked, causing Piccolo to clamp both hands over his sensitive ears and wince.  "That old hag can't tell the time of day, much less locate a missing numbskull like Goku!  How do you know this idea is going to work, anyway?"  The angry woman stomped her foot impatiently, waiting for an answer from the old man.

            Master Roshi grunted.  "She's a witch, girl," he said simply, "and there's nothing better at finding people than a witch."  The sun glinted off his black-tinted sunglasses as he shook his head in disgust.

            "You are _impossible_, old man!" Bulma ranted, frowning and waving her arms in the air.  "I can't believe that you're going to put us all at the mercy of a capricious old witch who'll probably try to enslave us all with a spell or something!  Don't you know that witches and crystal balls are practically obsolete now that we have solution generators?  They're completely useless!"

            As his girlfriend continued to list the reasons why machines and technology were better than witches and magic, Yamcha turned to Krillin and sighed.  "Y'know, Krillin, there's got to be some way to shut her up without her hating me for the rest of her life.  Got any suggestions?"  The bandit-turned-baseball player hunched his shoulders in defeat, at a loss for ideas.

            The midget shrugged, angling his head so he could see the face of the taller man.  He squinted slightly and clicked his tongue softly as he considered the various actions they could take against the raging woman.  "Well," he said finally, "I suppose we could knock her out and take her inside.  Anything else, and she'd kill me."  Krillin shuddered involuntarily at the thought of Bulma chasing him with a meat cleaver.  "There's gotta be something wrong with that woman's head," he added as an afterthought.

            _I agree with your theory, Krillin,_ Tien agreed telepathically, causing the midget to jump slightly before he realized who was doing the talking.

            _Tien!  Warn me before you do that next time!_ Krillin thought as loudly as he could.  _Voices in one's head aren't a sign of sanity, you know.  I don't want to think that I'm losing my mind._  He was sure the telepath would receive his message, or at least the emotion attached, even though he himself couldn't send any messages.  The other man was skilled enough that he would pick the thought out of Krillin's mind himself.  He needed no help.

            Then again, neither did Piccolo.

            _I like that idea, Krillin,_ the Namek responded, though no one had commented directly to him._  When are you going to do it?_  _Now would be a very good time._  Out of the corner of his eye, Krillin saw that Piccolo was smirking at him.  And not only was Piccolo smirking at him, he was also shaking his head slightly.  _I do pity you, human._

            Krillin took the hint, slapping his hands against his thighs in frustration.  "Why do _I_ always have to do these things?" he groaned before realizing that Bulma could, and would, hear him.

            Predictably, the pissed-off woman immediately turned toward him and stomped her way in front of him.  "What on earth are you talking about, Krillin?" she yelled into his ear.  "You aren't doing _anything_, if you haven't noticed!  In fact, what you _should_ be doing is backing me up here!  But are you doing that?  No!  You're never doing what you should be doing, like helping friends that you've known for half of your life!  Why don't you – "  The woman's angry tirade was cut short as she fell forward into Krillin's arms, unconscious.

            Evidently Piccolo had had enough of her ranting and raving; he stood just behind the spot the woman had occupied a second before, arm outstretched.  "Take the woman inside and make sure she doesn't come out again while we're here," he growled.  "She's a pain in the ass and isn't helping us any."

            Of course, the scene that unfolded before Chi-Chi was too much for her.  "You monster!" she cried before collapsing herself.

            "Well," Krillin sighed, "there goes the other one."  If his hands were free, he would have slapped his hand to his forehead in disgust.  But because he was still supporting Bulma's unconscious form, he rolled his eyes instead.  "Are we putting her inside, too, Piccolo?" he asked the Namek.

            All eyes turned to Piccolo as it was his turn to roll his eyes.  "Don't ask me such a ridiculous question ever again, Krillin.  You know the answer already, and you and Yamcha had better do it before I decide to become angry."  The alien's eyes glinted dangerously, though no light had passed over them.

            The group of men assembled before him could not mistake the tone of his voice for anything but what he meant to convey, and Krillin scurried into the house with his burden.  Yamcha followed suit with Chi-Chi, disappearing into the house with as much dignity as possible.  A gust of wind came up, gently blowing the tall warrior's cape behind him, leaving the remaining four fighters in awe of the imposing figure before them.  Piccolo was not one to be ignored, and he commanded every ounce of respect from the other men.

            The only fighter present that was still not mortally afraid of Piccolo was Gohan, and after a few minutes, it was he who approached the demon-Namekian.  "Piccolo?" he asked, "When are we going to go visit the witch?"  As always, the demi-Saiyan watched his mentor's face carefully for any emotion it might betray, especially the eyes.  His father had once told him that the eyes were the window to the soul, and if you were to really know what a person was thinking or feeling, you should look into them.  So Gohan watched as Piccolo's eyes flashed briefly with annoyance before he composed his features into their typical collected set.

            The jade-skinned man growled softly.  "We'll go when we're ready, kid," he said through clenched teeth.

            "So, we'll leave when Krillin and Yamcha come back out?"

            Piccolo gritted his teeth in frustration.  "I told you that we'd leave when we're ready!" he replied, allowing his emotions to color the tone of his voice.  Naturally, Gohan closed his mouth at that point, realizing that he had almost pushed the irritated Namek to the brink of an argument, one that he wouldn't be able to win.  He stepped back among Tien, Chiaotzu, and Master Roshi.

            Krillin and Yamcha chose that tense moment to step out of the house.  They exchanged glances as they watched the glaring Namek stare down two telepaths, an old man, and a demi-Saiyan.  Krillin decided that the whole thing would have amused him had the situation been different.  As it was, it was all he could do to keep from laughing, although a smile did cross his face for a fleeting moment.

            "What's the deal, guys?" Yamcha called to the group, breaking up the potentially lethal silence.  "Are we going soon or what?"  He sauntered up to his fighting comrades, ignoring the evil look shot in his direction by Piccolo, who was now thoroughly pissed off by human stupidity.  Krillin followed closely behind him, shaking his head in disbelief at the man's complete lack of logic and tact.

            _Well, judging by the look on Piccolo's face, I'd say that Yamcha's gonna be toast in about three seconds,_ Krillin thought to himself as he glanced from the irate Namek to his oblivious target.  _Yamcha's never been very tactful, but I think he crossed the line back there._  Then he felt a familiar tingle in the back of his mind.

            _You've got that right, Krillin,_ Tien chuckled in his mind.  _Although "crossing" the line is an understatement.  I'd say it's more along the lines of erasing the line, cracking the chalk, and stomping their remains into the dust.  Though it does look like Piccolo's about to do that to him, doesn't it?_  Krillin watched as the triclops tilted his head in their direction; Piccolo looked like he was going to lunge at the black-haired man at any minute.

            _Geez._  "Hey, Piccolo?" Krillin asked before the Namek could do anything to Yamcha.  Piccolo turned the full force of his withering glare on the midget, and Krillin gulped, knowing that even though Piccolo was considered to be one of the "good guys" now, it was still highly possible that he wouldn't stop himself from maiming anyone who got on his nerves.  He cleared his throat nervously and continued.  "What should we do if Baba's busy?  I mean, what if she's not even on the planet…say, she's got some business to settle in the Afterlife?"

            The thought had not occurred to Piccolo before, and if Krillin hadn't been studying the Namek's reactions, he would have missed the faint glimmer of relief in his eyes.  Not that he would see it for long…Piccolo slammed down his mental defenses again and assumed his usual calm demeanor.  "Then someone should check with Kami," he growled.  Then he glanced over at Tien.

            The triclops did not miss the hint.  "Give me just a second," he replied coolly, knowing fully well that Piccolo didn't have anything to do with Kami unless it was absolutely necessary.  There was bad blood between the two Nameks, literally, and Piccolo loathed his older counterpart with an intensity that rivaled even his love of battle.  The man closed his eyes in concentration and sought out a lone _ki_ among billions.  After a few minutes, he located the person he was looking for and linked minds with them.  _Kami, can you hear me?_ Tien asked telepathically.

            _Quite well, thank you,_ Kami said quietly.  _What do you need?_

            _I need to know if you know where Uranai Baba is right now._

            Tien felt the Guardian pause as he reached out for the mind of the old woman.  _I cannot find her energy on this planet, Tien,_ Kami told him after half a minute.  _I believe she was summoned a few months ago by King Yemma to help track down stray souls.  There was a big commotion in the Afterlife when Frieza went through for his judgment, and a few souls got loose in Hell.  Yes, I believe that's where she is._

            The other man stifled a gasp._  Can those souls get out of Hell, Kami?_  No one knew how much trouble a rogue soul (or demon, for that matter) could cause on the Earth, and Tien did not care to find out.  He hadn't actually fought Frieza, but he had trained for the battle.  Piccolo had actually fought the monster…he had been much stronger than Tien, Yamcha, and Krillin combined at the time, and he had still been defeated and nearly killed.  He had a healthy sense of self-preservation for the most part, and a group of renegade Hell-bound spirits with a combined might equal to that of Frieza would not bode well for the Earth's defenders.

            _I don't think so.  Why do you need to know where Baba is, anyway?_

            _We're trying to locate Goku, Kami, and we were going to ask her to try to find him.  Would you be able to let us know when she returns?_

            _That shouldn't be a problem._

            _Thanks, Kami._

            _You're welcome._

            Tien felt a sense of satisfaction as the Guardian closed off their temporary link.  He opened his eyes and found that nearly everyone was staring at him.  "Well?" Krillin prompted.

            He sighed.  "I know this sounds crazy, but you were right, Krillin.  She's in the Afterlife cleaning up after Frieza.  Kami's going to let us know when she returns."  He then jumped slightly at Piccolo's sarcastic chuckle.

            "Of course.  He _would_ try to control us that way, wouldn't he?" Piccolo mused, more to himself than to the others.  "I would suggest, then, that if you wish to visit this witch, you will meet back here when _he_ calls us," he added in a louder, more agitated tone of voice.  Without a backwards glance, the Namek launched himself into the air and sped away, leaving a _ki_ trail and a crater in the ground behind him.

            The remaining six men looked at each other quizzically.

            "So," Krillin said, "I'll be seeing you guys around then, right?"

            "Sure," Yamcha interjected.  "You know where to find me.  Keep cool, you guys!" he added before strolling back into the Capsule Corp. building.

            "We'll find you guys later.  Bye!" Chiaotzu exclaimed as he and Tien took off in the opposite direction of Piccolo.

            That left only Master Roshi, Krillin, and Gohan.  "I should probably wait here with my mom, Krillin," the boy said sheepishly.  "Piccolo was being a little harsh today."

            "Eh, don't sweat it, Gohan," Krillin consoled him.  "He's just got a lot on his mind.  And besides, you're the only one that can find him, so you can at least talk to him.  It could be worse.  And we're going to get your dad back!"

            Gohan's face brightened at the thought of seeing his other hero again.  "You're right.  Thanks, Krillin!"

            "I'm waiting!" Master Roshi interrupted.

            "Blast him," Krillin muttered under his breath to his fighting partner.  "He always does this when I try to socialize."  The boy stifled a laugh as the midget patted him on the shoulder.  "Hey, if you need to escape from your mom, you just come over, got it?"

            "Okay.  Thanks, Krillin!  I'll see you soon!"  Gohan waved as he ran into the building to retrieve his mother.

            "Bye!" Krillin yelled back as he lifted Master Roshi into the air.  Then he, too, headed off for home, ready to work off the day's events with a nice, long nap.

            And out in space, a lone ship flew, piloted by an inexperienced man and headed toward the farthest reaches of the known universe, waiting for someone to discover its whereabouts…

            And in a place unknown to all save a few, an evil stirred…

* * * * *

And that is my third chapter.  Please review and let me know how I did.  Thanks for reading!

~Dreamwraith


	4. Chapter Four

Thanks to everyone who reviewed for the last few chapters.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own DBZ or its characters.  Get used to the idea.

**Chapter Four**

_East Quadrant, Sector Six: Taltos Station_

            "Computer, give me a reading on the planet Kakarot was sent to destroy," demanded a low, rasping voice.  A voice that commanded respect, as did Piccolo's and Vegeta's.  A single red light flashed once, and a computer "spoke" as the silhouette of the voice's owner was revealed in the red light.  The man, for that was the speaker, stood stiffly near one of several consoles in the room, pulling at one of the edges of his cape.  The offending piece of clothing was beginning to ravel, suggesting much use by the owner.  It also looked as if it had seen better days; it was slightly scorched in places as well.  That cape had seen many battles.

            "Commander," the computer responded, a mechanical female voice.  "The Planet Earth is not devoid of life.  Its population has increased over the last twenty-four years, in fact.  It appears that Kakarot has not been fulfilling his duty as a planet purger."

            The man was barely able to contain his rage at the announcement.  "That low-class idiot!  It doesn't even take a Saiyan _infant_ to destroy all life on a planet in a _year_!  And he can't do it in almost _twenty-five_ years!"  He slammed his fists down on the nearest console, screwing his eyebrows into a scowl and baring his teeth.  He stood hunched over the console for a minute only before straightening up again.  Clearing his throat, he asked the computer about the native species of the planet.  He crossed his arms behind his back as he awaited the reply.

            "The native species of the Planet Earth is known as 'human'.  There are two distinct genders of 'human': male and female.  They come in several different colors, much like animals.  Technology level is medium on much of the planet, save two or three locations.  The native fauna coexist with the humans; some walk upright and can speak in their language.  The planet was not destroyed during two separate onslaughts by three Saiyan warriors within the last three years.  Kakarot was presumably not found.  The database has no information thus far on specific inhabitants of the planet, although it has been determined that Kakarot is not the only non-native being on Earth.  More data must be gathered in this sector.  The average power level of a native human is under ten.  However, there have been indications of beings on the planet that are powerful enough to hold their own against an average planet purger.  Some of these – "

            "Enough!" the commander shouted.  He had heard enough of the troublesome planet and its even more troublesome inhabitants.  He whirled away from the computer, which had fallen silent at his outburst.  His eyes flashed in the dim light as he began to walk out of the room.  "I do not need to hear that we may be dealing with other Saiyans!"  The irate man slammed the door, leaving the machine to its own electric hum.

            "Sir? Sir!" came a voice from down the hallway.  The commander didn't miss a step as the other man ran up alongside him.  "We've got some information in from the probes around that planet in the North Quadrant that blew up almost a year ago.  At least from the ones that weren't fried out there."

            "Get on with it!"

            "Right, sir."  The man began frantically flipping through his large stack of papers for one sheet in particular.  "Five minutes ago, a transmission came through from several of the probes orbiting planet Namek.  We had thought that the magnetic interference coming from the planet had ruined the relay circuitry, but apparently some of them survived, sir.  And the probes picked up an extremely faint vapor trail from a ship heading off the planet!  From what we can deduce, the ship, or at least the engine, was of the make used by the Ginyu force, and the trail was left when the ship hit hyperdrive.  Sir, we have every reason to believe that whatever escaped the planet is the being that killed Lord Frieza!"

            The commander stopped so suddenly that the other man had to backpedal to avoid running into him.  "Are you sure?" he asked.

            "Almost positive, sir."

            The commander rubbed his chin for a minute.  "Find a way to lock onto the coordinates of that ship and do so.  Get a reading as to the identity of the being it holds, and if you can't do that, at least find out what race spawned it.  This thing is a potential enemy, and we need to prepare for whatever it may dish out at us."

            The lower-ranked man stood, dumbfounded, at his side, gaping at the task he had just been given.  "But-but sir, that's not –"

            "Do it now, or I'll have your flesh torn from your body and fed to Frieza's killer!" the commander barked.

            "Yes, sir!"  The now-terrified man saluted hastily and all but ran back down the hallway.  The officer massaged his temples and continued to walk down the hall.  As he approached the bridge, one of the errand runners ran in front of him.  Not missing a beat, he grabbed the back of the young man's shirt as he rushed by.

            "Boy, go find Morodath and Kadrin this moment.  Tell them that Ralet wishes to see them on the bridge."

            "Yes, sir, right away."  The errand runner disappeared down into another maze of corridors, headed for the training rooms.

            Commander Ralet entered the door to the bridge and was immediately saluted by the eight men on duty.  "Men, activate the med-lab, code AdOPS, serum B and F.  Dosage of four grams of B each per day, ten days, and fourteen grams of F each per day, twelve days.  And don't forget to load their food storage units this time."

            "Sir!" they voiced in unison, rapidly processing his orders.

            The man heaved a sigh of relief, wiping the sweat from his brow.  _At least I will not need to wait on those two for long._  Then he jumped as the two men he had called for entered the bridge.

            "You never need to wait for us, Commander Ralet," the one known as Kadrin said smugly, swishing his tail slowly behind him in agitation.  "You should have known that we would not make you wait.  Especially for a good fight."  Behind him, Morodath stood calmly as well, his tail wrapped securely about his waist as he watched his half-brother unsettle the weaker man.

            _Damn!_ he cursed to himself, clenching his fists behind his back.  _How could I forget that Morodath can read thoughts?_

            "Commander," Morodath said, "it is easy to forget that someone of my size and fighting caliber has other…talents."

            "Of course, of course," the nervous man replied hastily.  And with good reason was he nervous: the two warriors before him had been bred for battle, planned for three generations and using the genetic code of several races.  The prominent genes, of course, were those from both Frieza's race and the Saiyan race.  The brothers received their tails, though vestigial and only used to indicate emotional state, and a good majority of their strength and power from Saiyan DNA.  The same DNA made up less than a quarter of their genetic code however, and in the womb they had been spliced with genes from the Ice people and from the stronger of the conquered humanoid species.  The result: two dusky-colored humanoids that could have passed themselves off as Saiyan, save the eyes.  Their eyes were as cold as ice, literally.

            To make matters worse, Morodath had been given the genes of an extinct pacifist race, a race for which telepathy was innate.  So between the two brothers, the need for an interstellar military was made obsolete.  The commander had yet to find a warrior that could last for even five minutes against one of them.

            "What information do you have for us, Commander?" Kadrin asked, drawing the other man's attention back to the matters at hand.

            Commander Ralet cleared his throat.  "Ah, we have located the trail of Lord Frieza's murderer, gentlemen.  As we speak, my men are tracking this unknown being and his ship.  The being might be sport enough for you, gentlemen.  I have also taken the liberty of preparing the med-lab and the serums for you, as well as procuring the AdOPS room for you.  You'll need all the conditioning and strength training you can get, for a person who can defeat Lord Frieza and live to tell the tale is a mighty warrior indeed."

            "Will we be able to hunt down Kakarot after we kill this so-called 'mighty warrior'?" Kadrin asked, eyes gleaming.  "We, at least, will then be able to take over his assignment, since he obviously has not been able to.  Let us dispose of this worthless trash, Ralet."

            The man glanced at the older of the two.  Kadrin bore a grudge against the throwback to one of his ancestral races, and he did not take kindly to such things.  He did not respect those weaker than himself, and more often than not those he deemed to be weak did not cross him a second time.  If there was enough of that being left for a cremation, they were considered lucky.

            Kadrin also had no respect for those who were not powerful enough to complete a purging mission.

            "All right.  I will commission a ship to take the two of you to the planet Earth, but you will be given its access codes only after this new threat is disposed of," he added as an afterthought.  He saw Morodath's eyes flicker in disappointment and realized that he had hoped the commander wouldn't remember that specific term of agreement.

            "Will you provide us with information on the planet and its defenses, Commander Ralet?" the younger warrior asked, his tone suggesting that he didn't think the commander was capable of remembering _that_, either.

            Well, two can play at that game.  "That is standard information, Morodath, for a purging mission.  I will also provide you with enough booster serum and regen-serum to last you through four sparring matches, and the ship will be stocked with food and liquids.  You must request anything else on your own."  The commander then turned his back on the warriors.  "You are to report to the med-lab to receive the first of the serum shots to aid your training immediately.  Further instructions will await you there.  You are dismissed."

            "Commander."  With that final acknowledgment, the two warriors departed, leaving the shaken man behind and thanking the stars that he survived the encounter.

_North Quadrant, Planet Earth: Capsule Corp._

Three weeks later

            Yamcha leaned back in the lawn chair on the Capsule Corp. property and sipped his iced tea contentedly, avoiding the ice cubes.  He sighed contentedly as well, fingering the sunglasses that shaded his eyes.  _If only there were more days like this_, he thought to himself.  _No villains to fight, no Dragonballs to find, and no rain to mess up my glorious afternoon.  This _is _the life._  He set the glass down carefully on the grass beside him and folded his arms under his head, smiling.

            "Yamcha," Tien asked, amused, from a second lawn chair, "why are you wearing those sunglasses?  We're sitting under a tree."  The triclops propped himself up in time to see the ball player blush a deep red.

            "Busted!" Krillin yelled from a third chair.  "You're showing off again, aren't you, Yamcha?"

            "Ummm…"  If it was even possible, Yamcha's face turned an even brighter shade of red.  "Well, guys, y'know…"

            "Knock it off, Yamcha," Tien said jokingly.  "We all know that you're trying to impress Bulma.  Don't even bother trying to hide it any more.  Just tell her how you feel about her!"

            "Oh, and I suppose you've told Lunch that you like her?"  This time it was Tien's turn to blush slightly.

            Chiaotzu chose this time to walk out the door with Bulma, deep in conversation about one of her newest projects and carrying a glass of lemonade.  Her latest experiment was being done on "sensitive" beings, or those who were psychic, and the small emperor had volunteered himself and Tien as test subjects.

            "Of course," Chiaotzu said, "Piccolo _is_ telepathic and all that too, and he _is_ better at it than I am, but he can't actually control people's minds.  At least not that I know of.  And _I'm_ not going to be the one to ask him to come over and try it!"

            "You're not going to give it a try, Chiaotzu?" Bulma pleaded.  "Please, at least contact him and ask him to come over!  I have so much information to gather, and an experiment on a member of a different species would be so helpful in my study!"

            The two Earthlings slowly made their way over to the lawn chairs, discussing the implications of such a study (But that may mean that we're _all_ psychic! Bulma argued).  Only when Chiaotzu came to a stop next to Tien did he notice the barely imperceptible twinge in the back of his mind that signified a telepath's message.

            _Yes?_  Chiaotzu asked, curious as to who would be contacting him.  Surely it wasn't Piccolo, was it?

            _Chiaotzu,_ came Kami's voice, _Uranai Baba has returned to this realm.  She is waiting to speak with you all._

            _Ah, thank you, Kami.  We appreciate your help._

_            Any time, young emperor._

            Chiaotzu snorted in amusement.  He wasn't all _that_ young.  Then again, nearly everyone on the planet was young compared to Kami.

            He then noticed that the other four Earthlings were looking at him.  "Who was it, Chiaotzu?" Tien asked, mildly concerned.

            "It was Kami," he replied, shaking his head.  "He said that Uranai Baba is expecting us."

            "So _that's_ why your eyes un-focused!" Bulma exclaimed, caught up in a scientific reverie.  "You were using your telepathy!"  The scientist whipped out a notebook seemingly from thin air and began jotting down notes.  Tien and Chiaotzu exchanged sideways glances before simultaneously rolling their eyes.

            Krillin glanced up apprehensively.  After studying the sky for a moment, he declared, "We've got company, guys.  And Piccolo doesn't seem thrilled," he added.

            "When is he _ever_ thrilled, Krillin?" Yamcha retorted.  The wind picked up just then, blowing his hair into his face.  He ran his hands through it, pushing it back from his face and behind his ears.  "Geez, the guy always acts like he's going to his own freakin' funeral!"

            "I wouldn't talk about people behind their backs, Yamcha, if I were you," came Piccolo's voice from somewhere above them.  "Especially not me."

            A split second later, Piccolo and Gohan both landed in the yard.  Both of them looked as if they had been sparring and were thrown into a mountain repeatedly.  Which was probably true, Krillin thought, given the people they were discussing.  Gohan's face was flushed from all the exercise, and he seemed happy enough.  Piccolo, of course, was Piccolo.  He rarely looked like anything other than menacing.

            "We might as well go to Uranai Baba's place now," the Namek growled after a minute.  "I don't want to waste any more of my time."  With that, he turned his back on the group, the wind making his cape billow majestically about him.  "Let's leave."  Then he took off swiftly, leaving a crater in the Capsule Corp. lawn.  Tien and Chiaotzu followed suit.

            "Are you coming with us, Bulma?" Yamcha asked his girlfriend as he stood up.

            "Of course, Yamcha!" she said, groaning.  "_Someone_ has to be the voice of reason there, what with the half-crazy witch and magic crystal balls and all."

            "Then hang on!"  The ex-bandit scooped the blue-haired beauty into his arms and launched himself into the air as well, taking care that he did not give Bulma whiplash or any other injuries with his sudden takeoff.

            Leaving Krillin and Gohan to choke on the dust being blown around.

            "C'mon, bro, let's get going!  We don't want to be the last ones there, do we?" Krillin asked as he lifted off the ground.

            "I suppose not," Gohan agreed.  "Besides, I don't want Piccolo to think I'm being slow."  He joined the midget in the air.

            Krillin glanced over at the boy.  The admiration in his voice was obvious enough, but looking at his face made one think that Piccolo wasn't a demon and would be willing to take him out for hot chocolate and cookies.  Frankly, the boy respected and looked up to the Namek, and that friendship had done wonders for them both.  _That's probably why Piccolo doesn't try to kill me any more.  I can't exactly call Piccolo a friend, but he's definitely not an enemy any more. I guess I should thank Gohan for that._

            The last two defenders hurried to catch up with the rest of the group, knowing that within twenty minutes, they would be arriving at the abode of the witch known as Uranai Baba.

* * * * *

Thanks for reading Chapter Four.  Please review and let me know if you like it so far!

~Dreamwraith


	5. Chapter Five

To my reviewers and to all who read this story…I thank you all for your kind words and encouragement.  I probably would have passed this story off as not worth the effort without your positive feedback.  Thank you.  Your reviews are always welcome.

I apologize for the long wait…I injured several fingers while playing basketball, and one of them is still splinted.  The typing's kinda rough right now, so please bear with me.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own DBZ or anything of Toriyama's.  That's why it's called a FAN fiction.

**Chapter Five**

_Hell_

            _"No, master!  I swear it!  I never did such a thing!  I am loyal only to you!"_ cried a voice in a demonic tongue.  The owner of the voice, of course, spoke no more after those frantically hissed words.  Once the intentions of an underling are doubted, their life is forfeit.  The screams of the dying demon echoed through the winding corridors of the spire, for there is no mercy in Hell.

            "I do not doubt it," the "master" told the corpse.  "But you've outlived your usefulness to me."

            Hell was home to a host of demons, the souls of whom were blacker than pitch, darker than a moonless night.  Of course, it was the final "resting" ground for the souls of the wicked, but a part of the realm was set apart for the most diabolical of them all.  These demons preyed upon the living and walked among them, returning home only when the need arose or when they were banished to it.

            Piccolo Daimao was one such demon.

            The Demon Lord, when defeated by Goku eleven years before, had been sent to Hell by King Yemma, of course, and such was the power of the Keeper of the Dead that Daimao was forbidden to intervene in the mortal realm under penalty of erasure.  Once erased, he would simply cease to exist, as was the case of _any_ soul at all.  There were many dead demons among the hosts in Hell, but for one _specifically_ to be placed under penalty of erasure was almost an honor.  A demon malicious enough to warrant such a punishment was almost certainly worthy of the respect of the demon realm.

            And that's just what Daimao got.

            Among all the deceased demons of Hell, Daimao was the only one respected and feared enough to stay in the company of the Seer, a winged fiend with the power to see into, and thus affect, the mortal realm.  This Seer was humanoid, unlike most other demons, and it kept residence in a cavern in the lower levels of the realm.  No being, living or dead, came to visit it save Daimao, who did not fear him.  It was whispered in Hell that the Seer consumed the flesh of other demons.  Else why would it require bodies?

            Daimao didn't believe a word of it.  He currently strode along the reddish ground in the demon realm toward the Seer's cavern, not once fearing attack.  For one thing, he was a Demon Lord…which entitled him to certain "privileges".  For another, the burden he dragged had a purpose which had yet to be fulfilled.  He seethed at the thought that he was being used as little more than an errand-boy, and the sole reason preventing him from ramming the corpse down the Seer's throat was his son.  He needed the Seer's help in learning why Ma Junior had not yet killed Son Goku.  It was beyond him…last time he had heard of his son, the young demon hated the boy with a passion.  _His_ passion, to be correct.

            The elder demon scowled as he stepped over a pit trap.  But the boy had not yet destroyed Son Goku.  In fact, he had supposedly _teamed up_ with the damned human in order to defeat his Saiyan brother!  Which would make Goku a Saiyan as well.  _That would explain why he was so difficult to defeat,_ Daimao mused to himself.  _The entire Saiyan race was too meddlesome for its own good.  It deserved its extinction.  Or rather, near-extinction.  If the race was still intact…who knows what they could have messed up in our hierarchy._

            As Daimao approached the threshold of the cavern, two imps appeared at the entrance.  The smaller demons were a mottled red-black in color, with four wings protruding from their backs.  They were also equipped with talons and fangs, standard demon features.  They hissed their displeasure at being disturbed by an unknown demon, and they readied themselves for an attack, red eyes flashing.

            Daimao snorted in amusement.  Two imps dare to confront _him?_  A demon _lord?_  They would be no match for him, and he let them know it.  The demon dropped his bundle before charging a _ki_ ball in one hand and snarling at the lesser monstrosities.  Predictably, they quailed at the sight of the more powerful being, and they vanished in less than a second.  Daimao then hefted his cargo over his shoulder and stepped into the cavern.

            The Seer's cavern was representative of a demon's paradise.  Hot steam wafted from cracks in the ground, which supposedly led to the fires heating the great Furnace, the construct that held the worst of the souls in Hell (plus a few unfortunate others that had fallen from Snake Way).  On occasion, one could hear the screams of the tortured souls in the Furnace itself through the same cracks.  In other places were pools of stagnant water, the breeding grounds of imps.  _The Seer either needs the annoying bastards for something, _Daimao thought, _or has pest control._  The predominant color in the cavern was a reddish-brown.

            "Cute," the demon lord snarled a few minutes later.  He had walked through the cavern and scouted out its perimeter, but the Seer's abode had disappeared.  It had been just to the left of the jutting rock formation near the center of the cavern… its space was now vacant.  "I do not have to put up with this.  _Seer!"_ he bellowed.  "Come out before I blast the whole damn place apart!"

            Daimao did not have to wait long.

            "Temper, temper," a quiet voice echoed through the cavern.  "There's no need to shout, Daimao.  You'd see it if you opened your eyes."  Startled, the demon lord flinched imperceptibly and blinked.

            The hut was there, as it had always been.

            Muttering obscenities to himself, the irritated demon stalked up to the door.  He had to duck to avoid hitting his head on the doorframe.  "Seer," he growled as he spotted a figure hunched over the hearth.

            "Daimao," the Seer acknowledged.  "Did you bring me what I have requested?"

            In response, the demon flung the body of the underling at the Seer.  It stopped well short of its intended target, though. The Seer's _ki_ shield was always in place, and the type of shield enacted had only one purpose: to keep out the unwelcome.  In this instance, the "unwelcome" was the unfortunate lesser demon.  "Did you erase it, Daimao?" the Seer asked into the fire.  "We can't have witnesses to this."

            "I already know that, Seer," Piccolo Daimao grumbled.  "And you do not have to remind me of the implications.  I have pondered them myself.  Now get this over with…I have other matters to attend to."

            "A bit nervous, are we?" the Seer asked, mildly amused.  It turned its body completely toward Daimao, giving him a good look at its face.

            The Seer had facial features much like that of a human, with high cheekbones and a sharply pointed nose, as if it had been the result of a bizarre cross between a human and a Namek.  Its skin was a dull brown, and the firelight gave it an eerie glow.  Its pointed ears were half-hidden by a mass of greasy black hair.  Two large, leathery wings protruded from its back, the coloring dark enough to be considered black.  Those wings ended in sharp claws capable of rending flesh in two with a single swipe.  "There is no reason to be nervous, Piccolo Daimao," the Seer chuckled, revealing a row of very white, very sharp fangs.  "The Keeper of the Dead cannot find you in here.  I have made sure of it."

            "Then that's one thing you've done right."

            "You still did not answer my question, Daimao," the Seer asked.  "Was it erased?  Or did you let the soul escape?"

            Daimao growled.  "Yes, it was erased.  Get on with it, now."

            The Seer stood up straight and stretched out its wings.  It yawned before stalking over to a large polished rock.  After careful inspection, the demon sighed and flicked its slender tail out of the way before sitting on it.  "There is no reason to hurry, Daimao.  Matters such as this are best thought out carefully beforehand.  Especially after your last mishap.  Uranai Baba had to be called in from the mortal realm, oh mighty Demon Lord."

            "I accomplished my purpose, Seer!" Daimao growled.  "The Earthlings were stalled.  They have lost valuable time.  And unless Son Goku manages to return to Earth within the next week, Kami and the other weaklings will be pulverized by the hybrids."

            The Seer reached out its hand to the corpse of the lesser demon, and it slid across the floor toward the rock.  "And what of your son, Daimao?  Are you not worried that he will be killed in the battle as well?" it asked as it lifted one of the corpse's arms.  It scrutinized the hand for half a minute before slicing off a finger with its talons.  Then it narrowed its eyes in concentration, and the rest of the corpse exploded.

            Daimao weathered the explosion without so much as blinking an eye.  "Seer, that's what you are for.  But I know for a fact that my son was able to face off against the second transformation of Frieza, and that is no small amount of strength."

            "Daimao, you could do the same.  You realize this, do you not?"  The other demon then produced a small piece of flawed quartz from a small pouch on his belt.  He fingered the crystal gently before jamming it through the finger and causing a small amount of yellow blood to bubble up around it.

            The demon lord scowled again.  "I could defeat this Frieza creature down here in my own realm because I would have all the evils of Hell behind me, empowering me.  I may even defeat him in the Hell set aside for the souls of the deceased.  But on Namek, there would have been little to no chance for a victory, and you know that, Seer.  My power lies here, in Hell, in my own world.  And _that_ is why I must find my son.  He has not yet fully tapped into his heritage yet…he has trained for years and become strong _without_ most of the benefits of our race, Seer.  He can accomplish what I could not because of that simple oversight, and to remedy that I must find him."

            The Seer glanced sideways at the elder demon while curling the finger around the crystal.  Daimao had always been an independent being, part of the reason he had ascended so quickly in the ranks of the Underworld.  He needed no one to aid him in any of his undertakings until now.  Now he needed the Seer's help in locating his wayward son, and he needed his son to create the Hell-On-Earth he so longed for.  It barely contained a laugh at the thought of the mighty demon so humbled…Daimao was not known for his patience, and it had already tried his patience too many times today for its own comfort.  "So you can create your Hell-On-Earth, Daimao?  So you can plunder the wealth of the realm of the living on the planet Earth?"

            "Must I make myself any clearer, Seer?" the demon snapped.  "With Son Goku out of the way, Ma Junior and I are free to take over that world.  I will be able to deal with the hybrids myself, then, and my power will be absolute."  He paused for an instant to regain his composure; he had unknowingly begun to power up, and he needed to remain calm, nonchalant, in front of the Seer.  He needn't destroy his image over a small incident.  "All you need to do is be my eyes into the mortal realm."

            "That is acceptable, Daimao.  In return, I wish to be left in peace once this realm merges with that of the mortals."

            "When I reap my rewards, and only if you have proved your usefulness to me."

            The Seer sighed, thankful that the demon lord had not chosen to destroy him for such words.  Then he looked into the piece of crystal.  "Give me but a moment, Daimao, and I shall reveal the mortal realm to you."

_North Quadrant, Planet Earth_

            Piccolo was the first to touch down next to the sole tree in the field.  "Chiaotzu, are you _sure_ this is where Kami said she'd meet us?" he growled, crossing his arms over his chest, as always.  "We were _supposed_ to meet at her little hide-away."

            "I'm positive, Piccolo," the emperor said quickly as he, too, dropped to the ground.  "He gave me the image of this place, and I've never known him to be wrong.  She must have changed her mind."

            The derisive snort that came from the Namek led Chiaotzu to believe that Piccolo thought otherwise.  Not that he blamed him.  The emperor had gone through both Kami's and Piccolo's minds several times before Piccolo had learned how to shield himself, and from what he had seen Piccolo's hatred of Kami wasn't wholly unfounded.  Kami had his own share of misdeeds as well, such as never confronting Piccolo as a child.  In Chiaotzu's opinion, had Kami actually approached the younger Namek at that time in his life, he very well might have been able to change him from the dark being he was to the side of good.  The Earth Guardian, who supposedly gave all life on his planet equal standing, never gave Piccolo a chance to see life as it should have been, and it was the younger Namek who had suffered because of it.  Chiaotzu would have felt pity for him had he thought Piccolo would accept it, but Piccolo was never one to ask for such a thing, and ever since he had passed Chiaotzu in telepathic abilities the emperor had kept up mental shielding, lest he discover the sympathy.

            Tien landed next to Chiaotzu, followed by Krillin, Gohan, and Yamcha with Bulma.  "Piccolo, is Uranai Baba going to be here soon?  Mom still has homework for me to do," Gohan said.  "I have to finish my lesson on logarithmic functions and their graphing."  The young demi-Saiyan sat down at the base of the tree and looked up through the leaves at the sky.

            "If the old hag isn't here in three minutes, I'm leaving," Piccolo muttered.  "I have better things to do with my time than to sit and wait for a witch riding a crystal ball."

            "You should learn to be more patient, Ma Junior," came a rough voice.  "When I say I will come, I will come!"  With a bright flash of light, the witch known as Uranai Baba, sister to Master Roshi, appeared.  The old woman sat on top of a crystal scrying ball, which hovered several feet above the ground.  She wore black robes and a tall, pointed hat.  Her magenta-colored hair poked out from beneath the hat.  "Now, what can I do for you?" she asked.

            Krillin opened his mouth to speak, but Piccolo cut him off before he had a chance to say anything.  "Cut the crap, witch," Piccolo growled.  "You know why we are here and what we need done.  Get on with it!"

            The old witch scowled up at the emerald-colored warrior.  "I would watch my mouth if I was you, _child,_" Baba warned.  "Your name is already spreading like a wildfire in the Afterlife, and quite frankly, you don't need the publicity.  Now, if someone would care to ask me _nicely, _I might be able to help you."

            The group of warriors and the scientist exchanged glances.

            "Umm, Miss Baba?" Gohan nervously asked after half a minute.  "Can you help me find out where my dad is, please?"

            The witch chuckled at the boy.  "Well, young Gohan, I would be most delighted to help you.  Especially since _you_ were polite about it."  She glanced accusingly at Piccolo, who scowled back at her.  Then Baba slid off her crystal ball and landed on the ground next to Krillin.  She dusted off her robes, muttering about dirt and insects, before turning back around and placing her hands on the ball.

            "Show me the one known as Son Goku!" she commanded, narrowing her eyes in concentration.  The normally transparent ball suddenly turned a milky-white in color, forming half-images of stars and lightning as it tracked its target.  The whole while she hummed a meaningless tune, and Piccolo had to cover his ears after the fifth time through the melody.

            The crystal ball worked fast.

            "I…I don't believe it!" Bulma exclaimed in amazement as the outline of a space pod began to form in the ball.  "There's no logical explanation for this, but it's happening anyway?  How is this even possible?"  She blinked several times in rapid succession to be sure that she was not imagining this, that the image of a ship was appearing out of an unexplainable mist inside a floating crystal ball.  To her astonishment, the ship only became more visible to her the more she blinked.

            "Bulma, it's magic," Krillin stated.  "Pure and simple, you _can't_ explain it."

            "But…" the scientist pleaded briefly.

            "Bulma, there really are no buts," Yamcha told her.  "Trust me, I know.  There's a lot of stuff in the Afterlife that's possible only because someone used magic to make it real.  I've seen it…it's just, well, magic."

            In less than three minutes, Goku was visible inside the spaceship.  The Saiyan's eyes were closed and he was relatively motionless, but other than that, to all outward appearances he was unharmed.  "Why isn't he doing anything, Piccolo?" Gohan asked anxiously.  "He's not moving or anything!"

            Bulma, still wary of the crystal ball, crept forward slowly and peered at the image.  "That idiot…he's locked himself into stasis!" she exclaimed angrily, clenching her hands into fists by her thighs.

            "What?" Krillin asked.  "How did he manage to do _that?_"

            The blue-haired woman began to stomp around in a circle.  "The dummy was probably panicking when the planet exploded, and knowing him, he started hitting random buttons in the spaceship without even bothering to read what they did in the manual!"

            "Um, Bulma," Krillin said, "I don't think alien space pods come with manuals."

            Bulma froze completely.

            "I think he's got you there, Bulma," Yamcha joked.

            For a few seconds more the woman remained motionless.  Then she practically exploded.  "_How do you know those ships don't come with manuals?_" she shrieked.  "All ships come with manuals so people can read what they're supposed to be doing!  It's practically a law!"

            Piccolo and Gohan rolled their eyes as the now-enraged woman began tearing her hair out.  "Piccolo?" Gohan asked as he approached his mentor.  "Do you think she's going to realize that my dad can't read anyway?  Much less that aliens don't have to follow Earth laws?"

            "Don't bet on it, kid," the Namek told him.

            "Can we get back to business?" Baba snapped.  "I don't have all day, you know.  My time is every bit as important as yours!"  The five Earthlings and the Namek refocused their attention on the ball…Bulma was still ranting about the injustice of not having a manual in a foreign space pod and therefore not paying any attention to the group.  "Where was I?" she muttered.  "Ah, that's right.  Goku is in the eastern part of the North Quadrant, although how he got that far is beyond me.  He's in pretty good health despite this whole stasis thing, though it shouldn't be beyond Shenlong's power to bring him out of it."

            "Is that all there is, Baba?" Tien asked, watching out of the corner of his eyes as Piccolo stiffened suddenly.  "All we have to do is wish him awake?"

            "It should be."

            Gohan also noticed the sudden change in Piccolo.  "Piccolo?  What's wrong?" he asked.

            The Namek warrior looked unusually unsettled.  "There's something not right here…" he muttered, his voice trailing off as his eyes darted from person to person.  "I can't place it, but something is watching us."

            Chiaotzu then gasped as he, too, locked in on the feeling.  "You're right.  I can feel it, too."

            "You're not kidding!" Tien exclaimed as he massaged his temples.  "Do either of you know where it's coming from?"

            "Not a…" Piccolo's voice again trailed off as he turned his head sharply towards Baba.  "There," he growled.

            The three telepaths locked their eyes on Uranai Baba's crystal ball.  Bulma stopped ranting as all noise from the rest of the group stopped.

            "What's there?" Bulma asked, pushing past Krillin so she could stand next to Yamcha, who was equally confused.  Gohan followed behind her and helped Krillin back onto his feet.

            Baba followed the gazes of the telepathic warriors to the ball.  "What do you think you're trying to pull, Piccolo?  There's nothing wrong with the ball.  I just had it _fixed!_  You're not fooling anyone," she snapped.  Then the witch yelped and tore her hands off the ball.  Piccolo was the only one able to see the palms of her hands before she withdrew them into her robes.

            Baba's hands were red and blistering.

            _What the hell?_  "Get away from the ball," Piccolo growled, backing away so fast that it took the humans and demi-Saiyan a few seconds to locate him.  _I don't like this at all_, he thought.  Then he contacted Tien.

            _Tien, her hands are burned.  Tell me, a crystal ball always obeys its creator, true?_ he asked.

            The triclops glanced over at him and nodded, a somewhat concerned expression apparent on his face.  _Yeah, that's right.  You don't like what's happening either, I take it._

            "There's something wrong with…what the – " Piccolo began cursing in his native tongue as the image of Goku was replaced with a swirling red and gold mass of plasma, streaked heavily with black.

            "What did you do to my ball, demon?" Baba screeched, causing the sensitive Namek to wince.  The group took another step away from the ball as it began to glow red.  The pulsating light seemed to draw them to it, and only Baba's yelling kept most of them in touch with reality.

            "I did nothing to it, witch!" he shouted as the wind began to howl around them.  Suddenly, the light seemed to cave in on itself.  "Take cover!" someone shouted.  Then the light burst free of the ball, leaving a swirling vortex of red and black inside of it.

            Piccolo dropped to his knees and screamed in pain, clutching at his head.  The pain!  It felt like someone had driven a hot blade through his mind, leaving it scorched and unable to function.  He could not understand exactly what had happened, but he _did _know that someone had attacked him mentally.  When he was able to open his eyes once again, he noticed that nearly everyone else had been affected as well.  Chiaotzu was unconscious, and Tien was curled into a ball on the ground and moaning.  Gohan was massaging his temples and leaning on Krillin, who seemed unfazed by the attack.  Baba was covering her ears and shouting in a language Piccolo did not recognize.  Yamcha was trying to calm Bulma down…she had gone into a fit of hysterics when she saw three of the warriors drop as if they were flies.  Neither of them seemed affected as well.

            The Namek rose up on one knee, grimacing.  _Whoever it was took out the telepaths first…which is why Chiaotzu and Tien dropped, and Gohan and Baba were affected, yet the other three were left alone.  What the hell is going on?_  Piccolo then pushed himself off the ground and stood up.  As he did, the winds howling from the corrupted ball pushed him back, but he held his ground, determined to uncover and kill whoever had dared to search through his mind.

            Then he felt something calling to him, beckoning to him from inside the unknown vortex.  He refused to answer the call for a moment only, before it began forcefully drawing him into it.  Again, he felt the same stab of pain in his mind, and he collapsed mere feet in front of Uranai Baba's crystal ball.  He thought he heard someone frantically calling his name from somewhere behind him, but he could not find the strength to speak.  The same something that had beckoned to him now wanted him to join it, and he felt himself being drawn into the depths of the corrupted magical artifact.  And his world slowly went black.

* * * * *

How's that for an evil cliffhanger?  I apologize if Daimao or Uranai Baba were out-of-character…I have yet to see Daimao on TV or read about him in the manga, and I've seen Baba a whopping two times.

Ah, well.  Thanks for bearing with me for the last two weeks of no updating, and thanks for reading this chapter.  Please review and let me know if it just got interesting or if the formatting is starting to bug you.

~Dreamwraith


	6. Chapter Six

First and foremost, I would like to thank the people who reviewed the last few chapters.  Your input is greatly appreciated.  Thanks for sticking with me this far.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own DBZ.

**Chapter Six**

            Gohan watched as his mentor approached the crystal ball on unsteady feet.  _Piccolo, what are you doing?_ he thought to himself.  _You're going to get yourself killed!_  Then Piccolo crumpled in front of the ball, seeming almost entranced by the vortex of color.  "Piccolo!" he screamed above the howling of the wind.  "Piccolo, get up!  Fight it!"  Through his mental link with the Namek, he could feel that something had happened to him, that his mind was no longer his alone, and he pushed free of Krillin's helping hands.

            "Gohan, what are you doing?" Krillin shouted over the wind's cacophony.

            "I have to help Piccolo!" Gohan answered, the wind whipping his hair around his head.  "His mind doesn't feel right!"

            "What do you mean?" the midget called again.

            The demi-Saiyan did not hear him.  His _ki _flared up around him as he struggled against the wind in an attempt to reach the downed Namek.  "Piccolo!" he screamed again.  "Fight it, Piccolo!  Don't let him take you!"  Slowly but surely, Gohan made headway in the wind, ignoring both the howls of the wind and the high-pitched chanting of Uranai Baba.

            Krillin found himself helplessly watching his young friend fighting the wind.  He clenched his hands into fists and grimaced as the demi-Saiyan was bent nearly in two against it.  He turned his head when the vortex became too chaotic to watch.  _What on Earth is happening here?_ he thought to himself.  _Baba's ball has gone haywire, and all the telepaths are down for the count.  Ahhh, I wish Goku was here…he'd know what to do!_

_            Not _all_ of us are out yet, Krillin,_ came Tien's voice.  Wordlessly, Krillin turned his head in time to see the triclops prop himself up on his elbows and knees.  _What on Earth did Gohan say to you?_

            Krillin shook his head in amazement.  He never would get used to mental speech, though that would probably be for the best, judging by what had just happened.  He began to forge his way over to the downed fighter just as Gohan reached Piccolo.  _The things I do for these people,_ he thought to himself.  Then his world exploded without warning, and he was flung backwards, away from Tien.  His last conscious thought for a while was wondering what had just happened…and where the pretty stars had come from.

            From on top of the Lookout, the Guardian of the Earth leaned heavily on his staff, gasping for breath for what seemed like hours.

            "Kami?" Mr. Popo, his caretaker and friend, asked.  "Are you all right?"  The round, dark-skinned djinn set down his watering can as he walked toward the elderly Namek.  "Is something wrong with Piccolo?"  The short djinn had lived on the Lookout for centuries, serving under each Guardian in turn.  This one seemed to be the most interesting…after all, not many Guardians could say that they had literally cast out their personal devil.  This Guardian also happened to be "father" to one, and neither he nor Piccolo were thrilled with the fact.

            "Yes, Popo," the Namek gasped, "it's Piccolo.  There's something wrong with him…it feels like something is trying to control him."

            "Why don't you do something about it, Kami?"

            "If I did that, Popo, I could destroy both his mind and mine.  The being in his mind would destroy him in a heartbeat if it thought I was a threat.  There's also the possibility that Piccolo would not accept my intrusion, and his own defenses would destroy us before he could stop them."  Kami then shook his head as he transferred more of his weight to his staff.

            "Oh, my," exclaimed the djinn as the full meaning of what had been said settled on his shoulders.  "You mean to say that this _thing_ that's affecting Piccolo can harm you as well?"

            "Precisely."

            Mr. Popo turned away from Kami, full of thought as to how the situation could be rectified.  Unlike the Guardian, the djinn did not hold any grudges against the self-proclaimed demon.  In some ways, he even sympathized with Piccolo.  In his own heart, he thought that Kami had made a glaring mistake when he had denied Piccolo those many years ago.  "Please reject it, Piccolo," he mumbled into the wind.  "I feel that the Earth will have a need for its Guardian soon."

            Tien forced himself to his feet as quickly as possible when he saw Krillin's body launch itself away from him.  The triclops had a lot of experience with the realm of the mind, but what he was now witnessing with Krillin and Piccolo, and what had happened to Chiaotzu and himself, was far beyond his current level of understanding.  Before the day had begun, Tien would not have believed that the situation unfolding before him was even possible.  Now, he was beginning to reevaluate his predicament.

            "All right," he growled into the wind.  "What do you want?"

            Of course, there was no answer to his demand.  As he shielded his eyes against the raging winds, he was able to make out Gohan's small form against the dark glow of the crystal ball.  The child had managed to reach Piccolo despite the obvious efforts of whatever had corrupted the ball, and he was reaching out to grab his mentor's arm when that burning sensation tore through Tien's mind again.  The triclops cursed out loud as he clutched at his temples again.  From where he stood, it seemed as if Gohan had been affected to a greater degree this time.  He watched as the boy fell into a crouch next to Piccolo.

            "Gohan!" Yamcha called from somewhere behind Tien.  "What are you doing?"

            Tien shook his head, knowing well that Gohan wouldn't be able to hear the man through the wind and the mental assault.  Hell, even _he_ had a hard time hearing him, and he was no more than twelve feet in front of him!

            Then, astonishingly, Piccolo's limp form began to glow with a forbidding golden light.  _DO NOT INTERFERE! _was the impression Tien received from the light.  In the next instant, Gohan was thrown away from Piccolo like a rag doll.  He leapt forward and caught the unconscious boy before he could be harmed in any other way.  "What the hell?" he cursed.  "What is going on?  Who is doing this to us?"  He then dashed over to Yamcha and Bulma.

            "Tien!" Yamcha exclaimed.  "What's going on up there?  What happened to Gohan?"

            "Yeah!  Is there something we can do here?" Bulma asked.

            Inwardly, Tien winced as he handed Gohan over to the scientist.  Bulma always _did_ have an analytical mind (which was why she became a scientist), but there were times when that trait became very annoying.  Especially when the "help" would actually prove to be a hindrance.  "Not really, Bulma!" he shouted over the wind.  "Just watch Gohan for a minute!"  _There's something really wrong with this whole situation, _Tien thought as he turned his back on the trio and began making his way over to Piccolo.  _I don't know why Piccolo, of all people, isn't getting back up, but if he doesn't get some help soon, there's not gonna be anyone here strong enough to take on Vegeta!_

            The man stumbled several times while trying to reach Piccolo.  He kept his eyes open for _any_ movement, aware that motion signified consciousness…and that no one in front of him was.  Even with the growing intensity of the orb's light before him, he was able to reach the Namek's side in a moment.  And that was when he discovered why he had crumpled near the ball.

            "Ah, Kami," Tien breathed as he stared at Piccolo's face, in particular his eyes.  The glittering onyx eyes had glazed over, leaving them an odd white color, tinged red around the edges.  It gave the Namek a ghastly look that Tien hadn't seen since he had been held hostage by Daimao, Piccolo's sire.  He shuddered involuntarily at the memory…Piccolo Daimao was a particularly nasty demon, and he had barely survived his encounter with him.  Tien knelt down next to the Namek.  Swallowing hard, he closed his eyes and began to focus on Piccolo's mind, allowing his telepathic abilities to "guide" him to the problem.

            Tien had only enough time to gasp before he was sucked into the depths of Piccolo's mind by a force he could barely comprehend.  His mind reeled with the speed at which he seemed to be traveling, though he knew beyond a doubt that he was still kneeling next to Piccolo.  When his sensation of the outer world completely disappeared, Tien realized that he had been drawn into Piccolo's mind, and naturally into wherever his mind had been drawn.

            The triclops was given a bird's-eye view of a reddish-brown plain, riddled with holes and stagnant pools of water.  Every so often flames would erupt from the ground, sometimes illuminating a face, which would disappear soon afterwards.  After what seemed like hours, Tien was able to focus on a swirling mist in the distance.  There seemed to be some sort of commotion over _something,_ and he decided it would be the best place to start looking.

            _I am never going to get used to this mind-travel, _Tien thought as he flew over the damaged landscape.  _Now I just have to find out what happened to Piccolo._  He continued in this manner for what also seemed like an hour, until he was stopped by a shield of some sort.  He cursed out loud, unable to see through the mist and unable to continue.  Tien pounded futilely on the shield when it suddenly dissolved, and he fell forward into the mist.  Had he actually been a physical presence at that moment, his heart would have skipped a beat.

            Piccolo was doubled over on the ground, clutching at his head as if to block out his surroundings.  All around him danced _things,_ creatures with wings and talons.  An unholy chant rang across the terrain as flames leapt into the sky from nowhere, and the ground was literally soaked with blood.  It was all Tien could do to keep from calling out to the Namek, when an enormous figure appeared among the ranks of creatures.  As one, their eyes began to glow, red and gold, and the dance stopped.

            Then, from all around, a rasping, rumbling voice spoke three simple words: _I SEE YOU._  The glowing eyes of the mass of creatures focused on him, though he had thought he was invisible to them, and the large figure pointed in his direction.  It did not have to say anything for Tien to understand what that simple gesture meant.  With a cry, the triclops leapt into their midst and grabbed Piccolo's arm, allowing his momentum to carry the both of them out of and away from that unholy circle.  Tien tripped as something burst forth from the ground and held his ankle fast.  _Kami, no, _he moaned.  _Wake up, wake up, wake UP!_

            With a shout loud enough to wake the dead, Tien yanked Piccolo's form upward as he tore himself out of the Namek's mind.  His final glimpse of Piccolo's mind was of the plain bursting into flames completely.  Then he was back in his own body, throat raw from shouting and adrenaline surging through him.  Beside him, Piccolo gasped as he opened his eyes and sat up, dazed and looking for all the world like he had just fallen out of a tree.

            The winds coming from the crystal ball had ceased entirely, and the magical orb took on an angry red hue as the colors of the vortex swirled faster and faster.  The energy emanating from it began to crackle.

            "What just happened?" he muttered, focusing his eyes on Tien's face.

            Tien shook his head, amazed that he had actually managed to break free of the otherworldly being's grip.  "Piccolo," he said finally, "I think you've made a new enemy."

            The Namek frowned.  "What else is new?" he growled.  "You know what I meant."

            "I don't know how I pulled us out, Piccolo.  I really don't."

            Yamcha suddenly appeared behind them, a worried look on his face.  "The chit-chat's nice and all, you guys, but Baba just got 'the look' on her face.  You know, that 'get the hell out of there while you still can' look?  She wants us outta here!"  The man was rewarded with two blank stares.  _You've gotta be kidding me,_ he thought.  "_Move_ already!" he shouted.  He glanced up at the ball, fully aware that Uranai Baba had ceased her shouting and was now gesturing frantically at him.

            "I'm gonna regret this," he muttered to himself as he grabbed both men's arms and pulled them both back with him.  "Piccolo's gonna kill me when this is over."  Bulma rushed up to help him with Tien, setting Gohan down behind her.

            _You're damn right I'm going to kill you,_ came an angry voice in his head.  _Let go of me!_

            "Not until we're clear!" Yamcha exclaimed, wondering where he had gotten the guts to stand up to the demon-spawned Namek.

            Then, before the astonished eyes of the four conscious Earthlings, the crackling ball began to rise, spinning violently.  Piccolo alone was able to hear the low chanting of Uranai Baba.  "What's happening now?" he heard Bulma ask.  "What's going on?"

            Piccolo gritted his teeth and growled low in his throat.  "Get down!" he hissed.

            "What?" the woman asked, unable to hear him.

            "_Get down!_" the Namek bellowed, reaching out to Gohan and pulling the child over to him.  "The blasted orb is about to explode!"  He hugged the boy to his chest and turned his back to the crystal ball, sheltering him.

            Realization sunk in finally, and Bulma shrieked.  Yamcha pulled her to him and imitated Piccolo, knowing that she wouldn't be able to withstand an explosion on her own.  Tien looked about wildly for Chiaotzu and Krillin.  "You guys!" he shouted.  "Where's Krillin and Chiaotzu?  I can't see them!"

            "Leave them!" Piccolo shouted back.  "They'll survive the blast!"

            And it was at that point the corrupted ball exploded.  Shards of crystal were hurled across the landscape, imbedding themselves into the tree and warriors alike.  Piccolo turned his head too soon and earned himself a score across the side of his face.  He whipped his head back around and grimaced.

            Uranai Baba stood amidst the flying shards, chanting in the Common language.  "Be gone, foul presence, and tarnish this place no more!  I bind you thus, to no longer extend your physical influence to this realm.  This I command, and this you will obey!" she shouted.  When the final words of the spell were uttered, all activity stopped in the field.  An eerie silence replaced the faint whistling of the projectiles, and with good cause: Baba's spell had caused them all to fall harmlessly to the ground.

            Slowly, the defenders of the Earth stood, one by one, and began brushing themselves off.  Bulma had taken her notebook out and was torn between staring at Baba and scribbling notes.  At the same time, Gohan, Krillin, and Chiaotzu all woke up, apparently released from whatever had held them unconscious.  "Piccolo, what happened?" Gohan asked as his mentor set him down on his feet.  "Are you all right?"

            Yamcha laughed as Piccolo growled and twisted his face into a grimace.  "Kid, that's the question of the day."

            Krillin and Chiaotzu both rejoined the small group at the same time.  "I'm beginning to think that stuff like this is going to happen to us for the rest of our lives, you know.  Why couldn't I have just stayed with the monks?" Krillin groaned.

            "Because you never would have met people like us," Tien replied sourly as he surveyed the damage.

            The pitiful attempts at joking around were brought to a halt as Uranai Baba floated over to the warriors.  She flew through the center of the group and levitated higher, coming to a stop in front of Piccolo.  The irritated Namek crossed his arms in front of his chest.  The two beings glared at each other until Baba waggled a finger accusingly in his face.  "I don't know what you could have possibly done to piss off something in another realm, boy," she said coldly, "but you have a powerful enemy."

            "You know that I haven't done anything outside of this realm, witch," Piccolo snarled back..  Then he smirked.  "I can say the same thing about you," he said, glancing at her hands.  _If you were really as powerful as you think you are, you would have been able to control your ball, _he told her mentally.

            Baba narrowed her eyes as she studied his face for any hints of knowledge.  _A sly one, this Ma Junior is,_ she thought.  "Fine, Ma Junior.  I'll cede this one to you.  But I'll not be concerning myself with your mess.  I am leaving now."  With a simple gesture, Baba teleported herself back to the check-in station of the Afterlife.  A small puff of smoke was all that signaled her departure.

            "What was _that_ all about?" Gohan asked the Namek.

            _Piccolo,_ came Tien's voice, _this is nothing to play around with.  There's something out there that wants you for some reason or another, and it's not from this realm.  You need our help with this, Piccolo.  Tell them what you saw, or else I will._

            "Kid, I'll tell you later."  _Human, _he snarled back at Tien, _you have no right to tell me what I shall and shall not do.  It is none of their business, and I'll tell them only if it becomes necessary.  And if I find out that you have told them, I will tear your head from your body and keep it as a trophy._  "What I will say to you all know is that the Earth is going to be attacked, and soon.  We need to find Goku, and we need to bring him back here _now._"

            "So we should start looking for the Dragonballs?" Krillin asked.

            Predictably, Piccolo turned the full force of his glare upon the midget, and he quailed immediately.  "I am going to train now," he said after half a minute.  "Find the Dragonballs and let me know when you do.  The wish we make now must be worded carefully…Son Goku must be brought back as quickly as possible."  Then he took off so abruptly that he startled Krillin into falling over.  He was out of sight in mere seconds.

            The humans that remained were left in an uncomfortable silence.  Bulma was the one to shatter it.  "Well, according to the Dragonball Radar, the balls became active a few days ago.  If we all search for them now, we should have them in a few days.  Right?"

            "Right!" Gohan exclaimed with a smile.  "Then I can see my dad again!  It'll be great!  And then you guys can all see what a Super Saiyan is!"  He made off as if to begin the hunt on his own, but Bulma called him back down.

            "Wait a minute, kid!" she said, sighing.  "I need a break.  Everything that's just happened has been a scientific impossibility, and my head is reeling.  Get back to me in an hour or two, okay?  I need a nap and a super-long bath…can you take me home, Yamcha?"

            The scarred warrior shrugged.  "Sure, Bulma.  I'll see the rest of you in a few hours!"  He lifted Bulma into his arms and took off in the direction he came from, back toward the Capsule Corp. complex.

            "I'm going to get something to eat first, Krillin," Tien said.  "I'll meet you at the Kame House."  Then he, too, was gone, and Chiaotzu followed suit.

            Krillin turned to Gohan.  "Well, bro, it looks like it's just you me again.  Why don't you come back to the Kame House with me and get something to eat?  We've got a lot of ground to cover later and only a few days to do it.  You'll need the sustenance," he joked.  His mood then took a turn for the serious.  "Did you notice something new about Piccolo, Gohan?"

            Gohan lifted an eyebrow and ran one hand through his hair.  "No, I didn't, Krillin.  Why would you think that?"

            "Well," the midget said matter-of-factly, "he threatened Yamcha already a few times within the last few weeks, and I _think_ he threatened Tien earlier, if I didn't mistake the looks on their faces earlier, but he hasn't done anything about it!"

            The boy frowned.  "Now that I think about it, you're right, Krillin.  But he's been a good guy for a few years now.  At least with me, he has, and I think that maybe he isn't afraid to show it any more."

            "If you're defining Piccolo as 'good' because he hasn't killed any of us recently, then I suppose you're right.  If that's not it, then you really need to straighten out your definitions, kid," Krillin chuckled.  "But come on, let's get something to eat."

            "All right!"  The human and the demi-Saiyan flew off in the direction of the Kame House, both believing that the excitement was over for a while.

            They did not know how wrong they were, or of the perilous situation the Earth had just been placed in.  For as they flew, they were being watched.  And the eyes of the watcher smoldered with anger.

* * * * *

Thanks for reading!  Questions, comments, and feedback are welcome.  Or you can just tell me that I have lost my mind.  Which is quite possible. *grins at image of authoress trying to find her head*

~Dreamwraith


	7. Chapter Seven

Normally I wouldn't have had a chapter out this fast, but after late-night talks with some authoresses from this site and a few friends (you all know who you are), I felt much better about this. It is such a wonderful feeling to know that people appreciate what you are doing. Thank you.

Therefore I am entitled to my first chapter dedication. This one is for Chaotic Souls (It's all your fault! -grin-). Thanks for pushing me to write this chapter…I'd have let it slide for another few days if it wasn't for your encouragement!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own DBZ or anything that was created by Akira Toriyama, obviously.

**Chapter Seven**

_Hell_

Piccolo Daimao erupted with rage. "You ass!" he bellowed into the Seer's face. "How could you have that chance slip? You could have blown them all to pieces, and I would have had no opposition!" The livid elder demon began charging a _ki_ ball in his right hand and held it up to the Seer's face, illuminating its frightened eyes. "_And there would be no hybrids threatening my territory!_"

"Daimao, please," it spoke hurriedly, gulping as the _ki_ ball grew ever brighter. "My lord, you do not wish to do this!"

"And why do I not, Seer? You have failed! You are of no use to me now that the witch has bound you to this realm!" The demon pulled his hand away from the Seer's face and snarled. "Unless you can prove to me _right now_ that you can still do something, your life is forfeit."

Daimao was slightly surprised when the Seer sighed with relief.

"I can prove that to you, Demon Lord, and more," it said, suddenly content.

"And how do you suppose you will do that?"

"Uranai Baba only bound my physical influence, Daimao. She did not bind my mental influence, nor did she bind any other demons. I can still affect that realm, even though I may not touch it."

The irate demon allowed the _ki_ ball to dissipate. He sat down on a nearby rock for a moment, still outraged that the Seer had been caught. "What have you learned about my son, Seer?" he demanded finally.

The Seer's face blanched visibly. "Daimao," it began, futilely rustling its wings in agitation. "Do you wish to –"

"I _told_ you to speak, weakling!" the demon lord raged. "Now answer me! What has Ma Junior been doing on the planet Earth?"

"If you so badly desire to know this, then I will tell you, Daimao. But know this: you will not be pleased," the Seer warned. The elder demon motioned for him to continue and get to the point. "You already know that Ma Junior has been Goku's ally, but it goes much deeper than that now. Demon Lord, your son did kill Son Goku and his brother both, but when he realized the danger the planet was in, he trained the man's spawn…taught him to fight! The boy, Gohan, he changed Ma Junior, and Ma Junior…" The Seer was upset enough that it choked on the words.

"Out with it!"

"He renounced his heritage, lord. He died for the boy. You can see it for yourself, if you so desired: Radditz, Son Goku's brother, is in Hell. His soul does not wander the Earth as it should. And, Daimao, he is near considering Son Goku and the rest of the Earth's defenders as…as friends."

The Seer had expected Piccolo Daimao to be terribly upset. It had even expected to be blamed for this, though it could not do anything about it as of yet. But it _hadn't_ counted on Daimao's rage exploding around it.

_"WHAT?"_ the elder demon roared, powering up so rapidly that the Seer thought he would tear apart the cavern. The demon's rage had caused his _ki_ to expand in a way that had never been possible for him up to this day, and the Seer cowered before him. "My son has been taken in with the enemy? This is not possible! How dare he defy me?"

The ground below their feet began to tremble with Daimao's anger, and the Seer decided it was time to intervene. The elder demon might not be strong in the mortal realm, but when it came to the demons' realm of Hell, his power was unparalleled. One did not have to be alive in the demon realm to be a force to be reckoned with. "There are ways to change him back, Demon Lord!" the Seer shouted. "Give me time, and I can revert him back to what he was!"

As suddenly as Daimao's horrible rage had begun, it ebbed away. The demon straightened up and smirked. "You don't say, Seer. How can this be done?"

It gulped, suddenly realizing its error. If it failed to catch the other demon's interest now, its life would be forfeit. "I can send one of my minions to the mortal realm. From there I would let him choose his own method for conversion, but it would all turn out the same. Ma Junior, your son, would embrace his heritage once again."

Daimao growled. "That damned boy of mine has become weak. It's no wonder that the Saiyans are surpassing him in strength. The idiot rejected himself…he's a disgrace to our kind. If I did not need him, I would find a way to kill him myself." Then he turned and faced the Seer. "Tell me, what effect will this 'student' of yours will have when the Saiyan genetic hybrids catch Son Goku?"

"I would not send him until after their departure, or death. Either way, though, through my influence or because of the genetic warriors, your son will come back to his roots. And then not even Goku would be able to stop you from breaking free." The Seer turned its attention back to its half-forgotten scrying tool, and its voice took on a detached tone. "Yes, then we will see who is stronger, the father or the son."

Piccolo Daimao stared at the Seer. He had known for a while that the Seer was called that for more than one reason. It was true that it was able to see into and affect the mortal realm, but could it also be able to see into the future?

"At least Kami never made the attempt to confront him," the Seer continued in a stronger voice. It chuckled, a dry, crackling sound. "Ma Junior would have been unsalvageable then. That is one thing your other half has done correctly, Daimao." The demon then clenched the hand holding the scrying tool into a fist, and the tool was incinerated in its grasp.

"Indeed," the elder demon agreed. Then he, too, began to laugh, a chilling sound that would have frozen the blood in any being other than a demon. "Yes, we shall teach the whelp a lesson, and the Earth will be mine. Fetch your minion."

"Right away, oh mighty Demon Lord."

---

_North Quadrant, Planet Earth_

Piccolo was still rather disturbed by the events of the past three days. He had yet to come up with a satisfactory explanation as to what he had seen, and he had even gone so far as to speak with Tien about it. The Namek warrior knew that the figures dancing around him when the force had caught him were familiar somehow, but he could not quite place it. Nor could he ignore the feeling that he was being watched. With a grunt, he landed on the riverbank next to the waterfall he meditated over. He would have to do something about that soon enough, but he had to check on the humans' progress in finding the Dragonballs. _How many of them do you have?_ he asked Tien telepathically.

_We found six of them. Gohan and Krillin are getting the seventh one as we speak,_ the human replied. _You might as well come to the Kame House now, Piccolo. They should be about an hour, tops._

_Fine._ Piccolo abruptly ended the mental link and leapt into the air. "There must be some reason for caring so much about this," he mumbled to himself. As always, his own mind answered him. _It's because of Gohan. You know that. You've grown soft, demon-Namek. And you don't even care._ Piccolo growled low in his throat as he began the flight to the Kame House, irritated because he knew the last comment was true. He _had_ grown to care for, and dare he say, love the boy he had trained. Hell, he'd even _died _for him! And even worse, that same outlook was beginning to apply to the other defenders of the Earth, and that included Goku. His sworn enemy.

"Feh," he spat as he flew over the mountains. He didn't hate Son Goku any more, and both he and the other man knew it. The fight on Namek had left Piccolo with a rather clear notion on where he stood with the man compared to the other fighters, and the level of esteem Goku seemed to hold him in was rather disturbing. Especially since he had killed the Saiyan once before. The man trusted too many people too easily. Then again, so did the rest of the Earth's defenders. Krillin, for example, used to fear him completely. Now the monk attempted to hold conversations with him! _This problem probably started when I laughed with Goku, Gohan, and Krillin on Namek, when we thought we had defeated Frieza,_ he thought._ It must have somehow given them the idea that I was no longer dangerous to them, that I was somebody to be friendly with._ He shook his head in amazement as he reached the edge of the ocean. Who would have thought that the son of Piccolo Daimao, the Demon Lord, would be addressed as a friend by the very people the father had destroyed?

Within a few minutes he sighted the small island that was home to Master Roshi, the man who had first trained Krillin and Goku together many years ago. The Turtle Hermit, he was called by some. The old man still lived in the house with Krillin and, on occasion, Lunch. As he neared the house, he saw Yamcha trying to flag him down. "Hey, Piccolo, down here!" he shouted.

The Namek landed gracefully on the sand, facing the bandit. "I could see you perfectly well, Yamcha," he snapped.

"Well, Bulma told me to tell you that Krillin and Gohan are gonna be back in a few minutes, and then you can make your 'specific' wish," the man continued, oblivious as always to Piccolo's glare. "I don't know why, but she also wants to know if you want your iced tea sweetened or unsweetened." Yamcha strolled back into the Kame House, unaware that the green man behind him had ceased glaring and was now staring at his back incredulously.

Just as Piccolo had made up his mind to walk in the front door of the house and throttle Bulma, a familiar _ki_ signal alerted him to someone's arrival. He turned his head in time to see Gohan and Krillin both speeding toward him. "Hey, Piccolo, catch!" the demi-Saiyan shouted. The boy then threw something at the Namek, who caught it deftly in one hand. It was the four-star Dragonball.

"Good to see you, Piccolo!" Gohan exclaimed as he landed next to his mentor. Krillin followed suit. "Was your training successful?"

"As successful as it ever gets, kid. That woman, Bulma, is waiting in the front room for us," Piccolo said, grimacing.

"Why aren't you in there with them?" Krillin asked.

"She wants to give me 'iced tea', the idiot."

The midget held back a laugh. He was in a rather jovial mood; the prospect of seeing his best friend after a year was heartening, and he was so elated that he made the mistake of trying to usher Piccolo into the house. The Namek was too shocked to do much of anything at the man's audacity, and Gohan followed them in.

The movement was futile, of course, for no sooner did Krillin get Piccolo into the kitchen then did the rest of the group walk out. The group, consisting of Bulma and Yamcha, Tien and Chiaotzu, Master Roshi and Krillin, Pu'ar and Oolong, and Piccolo and Gohan, gathered on the beach.

"Well, we've got them all!" Bulma exclaimed happily. "Do you know what you want to wish for, Piccolo?"

The Namek gritted his teeth in frustration; the woman was treating this as if it were a game, when in fact it was one of the most critical moments in her life. Something inside him told him that there was something bad coming at them, and he had the feeling that if he didn't get this wish right he would be dead. Literally. He watched as the woman and the shape-shifting pig set the Dragonballs up in a circle before them. More specifically, before _him_. The rest of the group fanned out behind him. _It's just me, isn't it?_ he thought.

As the group gazed at the glowing orbs, their enemy-turned-ally held his hands out in front of him and spoke the summoning words: "Arise, Shenlong!" The sky grew dark as the dragon emerged from his own realm, heralded by the light arcing between the magical artifacts and the clouds. The massive being appeared with a roar and a peal of thunder (_Convenient,_ Piccolo thought).

Shenlong hovered above the small group. "You have summoned the Dragon. I shall grant you one wish, and one wish only."

"Well, Piccolo?" Gohan asked. "Aren't you going to say the wish?"

"Quiet down, brat," the Namek snapped. "I don't need your encouragement." Truth be told, Piccolo had never made a wish on the Dragonballs before, and he had never seen one made. He had little idea of what to expect. "Shenlong," he said after a minute, "I wish for the man known as Son Goku to be brought safely out of stasis."

The dragon's eyes glowed red. "Your wish has been granted," he rumbled. "I must return to my slumber. I bid you farewell." Shenlong arched his body and shot himself up into the sky. As he did so, the Dragonballs rose with him. He then faded into the light from the glowing orbs, and when there was no more sign of him, the Dragonballs broke their circle and were flung away over the Earth. The sky grew bright once more.

"Piccolo!" Yamcha exclaimed. "What are you trying to pull? We were supposed to wish Goku to this spot!"

Surprisingly, it was Bulma who came to the rescue, so to speak. "You big oaf!" she yelled as she smacked the back of his head. "You can't just pull someone out of stasis like that! If the person isn't allowed to revive normally, they will die! At least one of you guys has some brains." The blue-haired woman winked at Piccolo before glaring at her now-fuming boyfriend. Piccolo merely raised an eye ridge. If she wanted to make her boyfriend jealous, that was fine by him, but he preferred to stay out of her little situation.

_Ignore her, Yamcha, _Tien said as he caught the murderous look on his friend's face. _Piccolo isn't going to steal your girlfriend from you. He only fights, remember? And trains? He won't let her within ten feet of him anyway._ The telepath watched as Yamcha's expression went from rage, to calm, and then to embarrassment, as he realized what he had been about to do. Or rather, what he would have tried to do.

Without any warning, Piccolo took a small jump into the air and hovered in his lotus position. He crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes, to all appearances trying to meditate in the middle of a semi-crowded beach. Tien knew better, though; Piccolo had left part of his mind wide open, as if to invite Tien and Chiaotzu to listen in on whatever conversation he was going to be having. The triclops nudged the doll-faced emperor and alerted him to what was really happening.

_King Kai,_ the Namek thought, _can you hear me? Goku requires your assistance._

_What is he up to?_ Tien wondered as Piccolo (and he and Chiaotzu) waited for a response. _What could he possibly need King Kai for?_

---

King Kai was getting ready to eat when Piccolo's telepathic message came through to him. He was just about to put a spoonful of rice into his mouth when his long antennae suddenly stood on end of their own accord and began to glow. "Huh?" the short blue god exclaimed softly.

"What is it, King Kai?" Gregory asked. The grasshopper cocked his head slightly to the side in a questioning manner.

"Hmm, it's someone from Earth trying to contact me. It's long distance…what are the going rates now, Gregory?" King Kai had always thought himself to be a master of all things funny, especially when it came to jokes. Unfortunately for his often-unwilling audiences, those jokes were old, outdated, and no longer funny. The telephone joke was no exception, and Gregory just rolled his eyes as the martial arts master chuckled into his hand. Then he stood straight up in shock. "Piccolo? What do you want?" he asked in surprise before hustling out the door.

_Humph, _Gregory thought as he watched him walk out the door. _The reception must be pretty bad today._

"What on Earth compelled you to contact me, Piccolo?" the god asked.

_Goku managed to escape Namek's destruction in a Ginyu force space pod, King Kai. Can you help us out here and tell him what buttons to push so he can get back to Earth?_

"The great and mighty Piccolo is asking me for help?" the god laughed. "Are you going for a record, Piccolo? Or did you just give up on him?"

King Kai hadn't even thought it was possible to growl that loudly in one's own mind. _Stop with the smart-ass remarks for once, _the Namek snapped. _The planet's in trouble right now, and we're going to need him. And that would require him learning the directions home. Can you help us or not?_

"Well," the god began, tweaking his glasses, "I _could_ contact him, but – "

_NOW!_ The force behind the mental roar was enough to knock King Kai off his feet.

"All right! All right! I'll tell him," he grumbled as he pushed himself to his feet. "Sheesh. Kids these days. They don't know how good they've got it," he muttered to himself. Then he caught a hint of danger in the air, and he turned his body to face the east. "Oh, dear."

_"Oh dear" what, old man? _Piccolo growled.

"There seems to be a disturbance in the East Quadrant."

_What does that have to do with us?_

"It's headed your way. It seems to be searching for something." King Kai had to cover his mental ears as Piccolo let out a long string of curses. "Are you quite finished yet?" he asked after half a minute of foul language.

_Fine. How long will it take them to get here?_

"Mmm, I'm not sure. I would guess about eight days. Why?"

_Will Goku be able to make it back to Earth in eight days?_

"He should."

_Good._ With that, Piccolo severed his end of the link with King Kai.

The portly god grumbled some more to himself as he sat back down to his dinner. "That brat. He never had timing down. I was just about to tell him a joke, too."

"Are you sure he didn't do it on purpose?" Gregory teased. "Your jokes are getting old, King Kai."

"Oh, be quiet."

---

Piccolo opened his eyes at the same time Tien and Chiaotzu exhaled. "What was that all about?" Gohan asked. "Were you talking with my dad?"

The Namek shook his head. "No, kid. I was talking to King Kai."

"What did he have to say, Piccolo?" Yamcha asked, pushing his way past Master Roshi and Krillin. Piccolo, in turn, glanced over at Tien, the look on his face saying 'you do it'.

"Well, guys," Tien began, "there's some good news and some bad news."

A collective groan was issued forth from the group. "Great. What else is new?" Krillin asked, smacking his forehead.

"What's the good news?" Bulma asked.

"King Kai is contacting Goku as we speak, and he's going to tell him how to get home."

"Then what's the bad news?" she pressed.

"There's something following him home, and it's not good."

- - - - -

Again, thank you very much for reading. I'd appreciate it if you could let me know how I am doing so far. Questions, comments, queries, and whatever else are all welcome.

-thoughtful look crosses face- I've noticed that I seem to work better in the middle of the night. Hmm. Not that the fact is relevant. Hopefully I'll have the next chapter up within a week, because I'll be back on a modem connection with very limited Internet time after that.

Dreamwraith


	8. Chapter Eight

Thank you to those of you who have been reviewing this story…you have no idea how much it means to me.  Especially to those of you who threaten to e-mail me until I update. *grin*

**Disclaimer:** I do _not_ own any of the characters from DBZ, nor do I own any of the DBZ settings.  I _do_ own the Seer, the inhabitants of the Taltos Station, and the chocolate that I'm dangling in front of a borrowed muse.

**Chapter Eight**

_East Quadrant, Sector Six: Taltos Station_

            Commander Ralet drummed his fingers along the metal railing, anxiously watching the surveillance screen as Kadrin and Morodath emerged from the med-lab.  They had both taken it upon themselves to pick a fight in one of the bars on the third level of the station.  Or, to be exact, _fights_, since once they had started the first brawl, they moved on to the next bar.  And so on and so forth.  By the end of the hour the brothers were both so badly intoxicated that they needed treatment.

            "At least they'll be able to track down that rogue space ship," he muttered, switching his gaze to his crew as they finished programming the coordinates of the planet Earth into the ship prepared for the hybrids' use.  They would follow the rogue ship and destroy it and then check in on Kakarot.  After three and a half weeks, their mission was about to begin.  He had already begun briefing the hybrids about their new assignment three days ago, and they had been sparring non-stop since then, save to terrorize the lower levels of the station.  The Commander sighed as he spotted one of the lower-ranking officers approaching him at a run.

            "Sir," the man panted as he hastily saluted the other man.  "The ship has been fully equipped and is ready to depart, sir.  The information about Earth and the access codes for the coordinates are in the computer's database, and it is fully stocked and awaiting your orders.  The probes have also returned from following that ship, and the data has been processed."

            "Very good.  You are dismissed."  Commander Ralet waved his hand dismissively at the officer.

            "But sir, that's not all!  The information about the space ship from the planet Namek is very urgent."

            "Then get on with it already!" he snapped.

            The officer gulped.  "Well, you know that our sensors indicated a disturbance of some sort coming from inside the ship three days ago, and it abruptly changed directions, sir.  We checked its current coordinates against the ones taken at that time, and if it keeps to its course, it will arrive at the planet Earth in five days!"  He gulped again as the commander's face flushed a vivid shade of red.  "And the results also came in from the identification trace.  Sir, you may not believe this, but the being inside the ship is Saiyan, and its _ki_ signature is exactly the same as that of the archived readings from Kakarot!"

            If Commander Ralet was merely upset before, he was absolutely livid now.  "_What?"_ he bellowed, causing every head in the room to turn sharply.  "Are you saying that Kakarot, the weakling who couldn't even purge a _planet_, is the being responsible for the death of Lord Frieza?"

            The poor officer before him passed out.

            Kadrin and Morodath rushed into the room.  "Commander," Kadrin began, "what was all the commotion about?"  The brothers both flicked their tails about in agitation.

            The man laughed, sounding for all the world like he had lost his mind.  "Kakarot, that Saiyan you both think so highly of, is the person responsible for the death of Lord Frieza."

            Kadrin narrowed his eyes.  "Your sarcasm is not appreciated."

            "Had I not listened to the two of you, that problem would have been eliminated years ago!  But no, you insisted that Kakarot was not a threat," the commander raged, pointing at the papers still clutched in the unconscious officer's hands.  "Well, look at _that!_  He can't possibly become more of a threat than what he already is!"

            Kadrin glanced over at Morodath.  His half-brother seemed unusually calm given the circumstances.  _What are you thinking, brother?_ he asked, crossing his arms over his chest as the commander continued to rant.  _Is it Kakarot that is responsible for this mess?_

            The taller hybrid quirked an eyebrow at him.  _From what I can glean from his mind, brother, yes.  Ralet has become unstable because of this.  What do you propose we do about this…situation?_

_            We pursue Kakarot and find out how he was able to defeat Lord Frieza so easily.  Then we destroy him.  He is worthless.  He couldn't even purge a low-grade planet,_ Kadrin thought bitterly.  _He is defective._

            Morodath watched impassively as his brother turned on his heel and walked out the door.  He did not need to look into his mind to know that he was headed for the port, where their ship was awaiting them.  He turned around as well, leaving the chaos of the bridge behind him.

            "Are we ready to go, Kadrin?" Morodath asked as he took a seat near the computer console.  "The ship appears to be fully stocked, and the location and current direction of Kakarot's ship are already on the screen."

            "Then let's away, brother," the older hybrid said as he literally leapt into his chair, causing it to spin around once before he stopped it.  "We are through with this pitiful station.  Taltos is too peaceful for the likes of us, don't you agree?"  Kadrin then began rapidly punching in the launch sequence.

            "It is quiet, I agree, but necessary.  We learned much from them," Morodath reasoned as the ship took off.

            "We should give the station a fitting end, then, and not let it go to ruin under Ralet.  You told me yourself that he'd gone mad, and there's only one thing I hate more than a madman."  The younger brother glanced over at his brother as the ship exited the port and emerged into space.  The sudden lack of lighting caused the ship to go dark momentarily, and in the dark Kadrin's eyes glowed an icy blue.  "An incompetent man."

            The ship was out of the station's firing range in mere seconds.  "Would you like the honors?" Morodath asked as he left his seat.  "I want to make sure they did not short us on our serums this time."  He disappeared through the doorway to the sleeping quarters.

            Kadrin winced as he placed his hand into the weapons transfer socket.  He remembered all too well what had happened during their last mission.  Commander Ralet had supposedly forgotten to have the crew load in serum G, the anti-regeneration drug.  Their mission was to exterminate a particularly nasty species of gelatin-like beings.  The species' method of reproduction was fission; if one of them had an arm chopped off, the arm would grow a new body and the original would grow a new arm.  A _ki_ blast could destroy them, but if any particle survived, it would grow a new being.  The anti-regeneration serum was made to specifically counter the chemical impulses that caused regeneration in any species.  If Morodath had not figured out that fire also prevented the species' healing, they would have been dead.

            He focused his _ki_ into the socket.  From there it would be concentrated into a beam by the body of the ship itself, and it would be forced out as a type of laser into space.  With any luck, he thought, he would be able to see the flurry of activity on the bridge when the beam hit.

            The other hybrid emerged from the back rooms.  "They switched serums on us again, Kadrin," he growled.  "They neglected to give us F again."

            "We shouldn't need it.  We won't be put into the situation where we would actually need the regrowth serum."

            "True, but I would feel better with it.  At least they remembered to give us enough B to last us through two days of solid fighting and enough G to fell a planet of starfish.  And they left some psi-down as well."  Morodath scowled.  "They must have some reason to believe in the existence of sensitives on that planet."

            Kadrin let out a short, sharp laugh.  "They won't be doing any more of that.  Sit down and watch the fireworks."  Then he let his accumulated _ki_ burst free of the ship and into the Taltos Station.

            The space station held up rather well for the first minute, considering the strength of the source and its own design.  However, there was very little in the universe that was able to withstand a blast from a hybrid nearly as strong as Frieza, and the station exploded in a matter of seconds.  A brilliant fireball rolled up from the point of attack, and the station was little more than space dust after Kadrin removed his hand from the socket.

            Morodath frowned.  "I must say, Kadrin, that was disappointing."

            "You do it next time," the other man snapped.  "I thoroughly enjoyed that."

            The two brothers sat in silence as their ship sped away from the remains of the station.  They had Kakarot's ship on the distant edge of their radar, and there was no chance of letting him escape.  They had caught up with the renegade Saiyan, and when they found him there would be hell to pay.

_North Quadrant, Planet Earth: Capsule Corp._

Five days later

            "Um, Bulma, this little blippy thing just showed up next to this other blippy thing here on the screen.  What's that supposed to mean?" Krillin asked as he pointed to the computer screen.  "Is this good or bad?"

            Bulma stormed up to Krillin and smacked him upside the head.  "Stop playing around, shrimp," she snapped, the sponge rollers in her hair bouncing as she spoke.  "You _know_ that I need to get my hair done.  Yamcha's coming over in a few minutes."  Her face suddenly took on a dreamy expression.  "My big, brave Yamcha is going to help save the world again," she sighed, clasping her hands under her chin.  "How awfully sweet of him."

            "Bulma, it just got closer," Krillin said, waving a hand in front of her face.  The woman paid him no attention, of course, so he just sighed and walked away.  He found himself at the door.

            "Hey, Krillin," Yamcha called from the yard.  "How's it going in there?  Find anything out yet?"  The taller man was dressed in an orange fighting gi and black-and-white slippers, identical to the midget's own uniform.  He had his hair tied back into a loose ponytail as well, which would keep it out of his face while fighting.

            "No," Krillin groaned.  "She's still fixing her hair.  She's also gone catatonic again.  Something showed up on her computer screen, and I think that meant something's coming in from space, but I'm not sure."

            Yamcha immediately tensed up.  "From space?  Are you sure?" he asked, glancing nervously at the sky.

            "Well yeah, but nothing feels wrong, you know?  What if it's Goku?"  Krillin tilted his head to one side and squinted, as if he was trying to see a distant object in the sky.  In reality he was extending his senses and attempting to discover what kind of _ki_ the new object may or may not have.  "It doesn't seem evil to me."

            Yamcha did the same thing.  "Same here," he said, sighing in relief.  Then he chuckled.  "I'll go pry Bulma away from the mirror now.  I'll meet you at Mount Paozu, all right?"

            "Okay.  See ya in a few."

            "So, are we sure that this is my Goku coming in?  And not some freak from outer space?"  Chi-Chi asked, closing the door behind her.

            "Almost positive," Yamcha said, glancing back at Krillin and Tien.  "Krillin and I couldn't sense a thing coming from it.  We were able to sense Vegeta and Nappa when _they_ first arrived, and we're a lot stronger now than we were back then."

            Gohan and Piccolo landed next to Chiaotzu and Bulma, who was still taking notes on psychic abilities.  "Just the person I wanted to see!" the scientist exclaimed, walking over to the Namek.

            Chiaotzu stepped away from her slowly, relieved that she was finally leaving him alone.

            Piccolo growled at her and furrowed his eye ridges, the typical don't-piss-me-off-unless-you-wish-to-die look evident on his face.

            "Although I suppose this could wait until later," she added hastily as she scuttled away towards Yamcha.  Piccolo still was the Demon King, after all, and his persuasive skills were unparalleled by most.

            "Hey, Piccolo," Krillin asked, "when do you think he'll be landing?"

            The green man scowled at him.  "If you'd actually focus, Krillin, you would've been able to tell when and where he is coming down."

            "Can you at least be a decent human being and tell those of us who can't sense _ki_, Piccolo?" Chi-Chi snapped.  "He's my husband, and I deserve to know!"

            In less time than it takes a normal person to snap his or her fingers, Piccolo was standing before her, fangs bared.  "Do _not_ presume anything about _me_, woman," he snarled.  "I am _not_ a human being.  I never have been and I never will be!  And because you claim something does not mean that you have rights to it.  He is landing in _my_ training grounds, if you so badly need to know, but never again assume that I _must_ do something for you."  He whipped around quickly enough that Chi-Chi had to leap backwards to avoid becoming entangled in his cape.  Then he took off, headed for his training site.

            Gohan looked from his mentor to his mother before following the Namek.

            "Blast that demon!" Chi-Chi cursed under her breath.

            Chiaotzu shook his head before he and Tien followed the other two warriors.  _Tien,_ he said, _I think it would be a good idea if we got Kami to talk to Piccolo.  He seems upset about something._

_            Chiaotzu, _the triclops replied, _he's always upset about something.  That's the way he is._

_            But you're not seeing it, then, Tien.  Think: what was it you saw in his mind when Uranai Baba's scrying ball went haywire?  I think there's something wrong, Tien, and maybe he'd be willing to talk about it with Kami._

Tien looked over at the young emperor, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Yamcha and Bulma had followed suit.  _Chiaotzu, that would be like asking him to commit suicide.  He wouldn't do that, and you know it.  You know as well as I do that Kami tried to get Goku to kill him in the last Tenka'ichi Budokai._

_            But Tien, Kami has to make up for what he's done to him!  Or rather, not done.  Why can't you see that one of them just has to back down?_

_            Which one?  Piccolo would never do anything like that, and Kami is stubborn enough that he'd never admit to doing anything wrong.  But we're here already…let's continue this later._

            Chiaotzu noticed with some amusement that their conversation had lasted the entire way from the Son residence to the region where Piccolo resided.  He was hard-pressed to stifle his laughter when Krillin landed and nearly dropped an irate Chi-Chi on the ground.  He and Tien dropped to the ground as well, followed by Yamcha, who managed to release Bulma with more grace than Krillin had.

            Piccolo and Gohan were already standing on the lip of a crater and peering down into it.  "Guess Piccolo was a little off," Yamcha joked.  "Looks like Goku's here already."

            "I heard that," the Namek growled.  Gohan smiled briefly, knowing that his mentor wasn't truly upset by the comment.

            Then the door on the ship shifted slightly and opened, the high-pitched squeal of metal grating on metal causing everyone to cover their ears.  It was all Piccolo could do to keep from falling over in agony.  "I think someone needs to oil the hinges!" Krillin shouted over the cacophony.

            Piccolo grimaced at the remark, but he kept his eyes on the door in case it wasn't Goku inside the ship.  He watched as a hand reached out and gripped the door frame and relaxed when a wild mass of black hair followed.  Then came a familiar figure wearing a tattered orange gi.  Despite himself, Piccolo smirked and folded his arms across his chest.

            Son Goku emerged from the ship with a dazed expression on his face.  He blinked a few times before his eyes adjusted to the bright light, and the first two things he saw were Gohan and Piccolo.  "Uh, hi, guys," he said, unable to come up with a better remark.

            Goku blinked again as his son jumped on top on him and knocked him over, crushing him in an embrace.  "Oh, daddy," the child gushed, "you're home!"

* * * * *

Personally, I think the ending of this chapter was sweet enough to give me cavities.  But it's not going to be like that for long. *evil grin*  The next chapter is going to be so much fun to write.

~Dreamwraith


	9. Chapter Nine

A big thank-you goes out to the readers who have been reviewing the last few chapters, and especially to Wicked Woman.  I would also like to thank The Prideful Mink for being my bouncing board.  She's an acquaintance of mine over on fictionpress.net, and she's done a wonderful job of listening to me ranting about writer's block. *waves to Mink*

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dragonball Z.  I own the Seer and the two hybrids, and the demon's realm that I created.  (What a thing to own up to.)

**Chapter Nine**

            "Hey, Gohan," Goku exclaimed.  "You've been holding up well, from what I can see."  The man picked himself up out of the dust and brushed himself off with one hand, hugging his son back with the other.  He began walking up the side of the crater, mindful of the smoke that still wafted from the scorched earth and smiling widely enough that it seemed as if his face would crack.

            "Dad, I'm so glad you're home!" Gohan cried as he snuggled his face into his father's neck.  "I've been so lonely.  There's nobody to play with, really, and mom's been making me study a lot."

            "I'll bet," Goku laughed.  Then he looked up to the rim of the crater and spotted his one-time nemesis.  "Hey, Piccolo," he said, waving his free hand at him.  "Glad to see that you're still alive.  Frieza's gone now, though.  Too bad you couldn't kill him, huh?"

            There were days when Son Goku had precious little sense, and this was one of them.  The green man rolled his eyes in disgust.  "Goku," he growled as he glared down at the man, "you really don't have much in the way of tact up in that head of yours, do you?"

            The Saiyan gave him his customary grin, putting his free hand behind his head.  "Nope.  Never have, and probably never…will…"  Goku's grin faded as his vision began to blur, and his voice trailed off.  He swayed as he took one step forward, and then his knees buckled, nearly falling on Gohan.

            Piccolo was behind him and supporting his weight before either he or Gohan could hit the ground.

            "Thanks, Piccolo," Goku said weakly as he set his son down.  "I owe ya one."

            "You owe me nothing," the Namek hissed, uncomfortable with the situation he had involved himself with.  "I did not want you crushing my student, and you can't show us this 'Super Saiyan' form if you're passed out in the dirt."

            "Are you all right, dad?" Gohan asked, hanging on to his father's gi pants.

            "Yeah, squirt," he said.  "I think I'm just feeling the effects of being in suspended animation for a few weeks."

            Piccolo hissed a second time at the Saiyan.  "You've been away for more than a few weeks.  Perhaps your brain was damaged by your landing."

            "Really?" the man asked, genuinely curious.  "How long have I been away?"  At most, he expected one of them to say a few months.  He could understand that.  But nothing could have prepared him for what his son told him.

            "A little more than a year, dad," Gohan said sadly.

            Had Piccolo not already been supporting him, Goku would have fallen over in shock.  "A…year?  But so much will have changed!"  Gohan watched as his father's face ran through a gamut of emotions, from confusion to sadness and ending in fear.  "What will Chi-Chi think of me?" he whispered.  "I've left her for a _year_."

            "Your _wife_," Piccolo growled, "is waiting at the top for you.  Now go talk some sense into her before I do."  He half-threw Goku up the incline and over the lip of the crater.  Gohan scrambled up the side after him, clearing the impact radius quickly.  Piccolo simply levitated himself out of the hole.  He came face-to-face with Chi-Chi, as she embraced her husband.  _If looks could kill,_ he thought as the woman scowled at him.

            He walked off to the side and turned his back on the group, choosing instead to fix his gaze upon the mountains off in the distance.

            "I'm glad you're home, Goku," Chi-Chi whispered into her husband's ear.  "I'm glad you're home."

            "So am I, Chi-Chi," Goku exclaimed softly.  "If I had known that I would be gone for an entire year, I wouldn't have started pushing buttons."  He reluctantly released the woman and sighed.

            "But Goku," Bulma interrupted, "if you hadn't done that, you never would've made it off the planet in time.  You would have been incinerated, blown to bits, kaput!"  She threw her arms wide to emphasize the importance of the matter.  Behind her, Yamcha rolled his eyes.

            "Yeah, I suppose you're right, but still, it doesn't make up for my absence."

            Krillin noticed the downtrodden look on his best friend's face.  "Listen up, Goku," he said, walking up to the Saiyan and placing a hand on his arm.  "There's no reason for you to beat yourself up over this.  You couldn't help it.  And hey, at least you walked away from the fight alive!  You put Frieza in his place, all right!" the midget exclaimed, laughing.  "And besides, you're here now.  What could possibly go wrong?"

            The small group then converged upon Goku, exchanging handshakes and congratulations and whatnot.  Tien and Chiaotzu hung back from the group and talked between themselves, but the Saiyan hero's face lightened up as he conversed with Yamcha, Krillin, Gohan, Bulma, and Chi-Chi.  Piccolo alone remained focused on the sky, and with good reason.  He recalled the events of the past few weeks with great accuracy, and everything that had occurred seemed to be adding up to one thing: trouble from space.  First had been Uranai Baba's crystal ball and its corruption, then it was the feeling of being watched, followed by King Kai's warning and ending with the feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach.  None of this boded well for any of the Earth's special forces.

            Tien noticed the Namek's unease and approached him cautiously.  "Piccolo," he said softly so as not to attract the attention of the group at large, "is something wrong?"

            The green warrior gazed up at the sky just over the horizon for a moment, refusing to tear his eyes away lest something happen.  "King Kai said that there would be something following him in," he said at last.  "I can't sense anything, but something is wrong.  I can feel it."

            "Are you positive?" Tien asked as he leaned on a tree near him.  Had it been a year ago, he wouldn't have dared to do such a thing, but the times had changed.  He was no longer as afraid of the son of the Demon Lord as he had once been.

            Piccolo snorted.  "I would not be surprised to find that something had landed behind you humans as you talked about your sentimental rubbish."

            Tien sighed and closed his eyes in defeat.  It was nigh impossible to speak with Piccolo without being insulted in one way or another.  He was like that; his very presence seemed to either encourage violence or spread fear.  Perhaps it was his sire's influence.  Perhaps it was his demonic heritage.  It might have even been the Namek's own aura.  The triclops opened his eyes again and glanced back over at Piccolo.  The self-proclaimed demon seemed concerned about something.  The thought of a creature that could frighten Piccolo sent a chill down Tien's spine.

            The three-eyed man had been brought up as an assassin.  He was accustomed to working with fear, with manipulating the fears of others for his own benefit.  He had discarded that lifestyle a long time ago, but he still knew how fear worked in the minds of others.  Piccolo was simply not the type of person to cry "wolf" when he felt the least bit threatened.  _Heh, I should know that,_ he thought.  _He wouldn't even tell anyone about what he saw in the depths of the crystal ball, and that still gives _me_ nightmares._  If the Namek feared something, then there was good reason for it.

            He outright jumped when Piccolo gasped, widening his eyes in disbelief.  "There's something in the sky over the horizon," the jade-skinned warrior said softly.  "It's headed this way."

            "What is it?  Is it the creatures the ball showed us?" Tien asked, worriedly looking out over the trees for any possible sign of such monstrosities.

            Piccolo said nothing.  Whether it was because he did not know the answer or chose not to tell, Tien did not know, but it didn't really matter.  At the moment, he had something a bit more important to worry about, such as how he was going to survive an encounter with creatures that made the son of Piccolo Daimao fearful.

            "Hey, did you guys feel that?" Goku said, rubbing his forehead.

            "Feel what, Goku?" Yamcha asked, furrowing his brow.  "I can't sense anything beyond us, if that's what you mean."  Next to him, Bulma pressed herself into his side in bewilderment.  Krillin scratched the top of his head and looked over at Gohan, shrugging.

            "I felt it too, dad," the young demi-Saiyan said flatly.  With his words the group fell silent.  The only sounds heard were the wind rustling through the leaves of the trees and the chirping of a score of crickets.  "It's faint, but it feels like there's something out there waiting for us."

            "What do you suppose it is?" Chi-Chi asked, squinting against the glare of the sun in an effort to see the object that was causing her family such distress.  She was no stranger to harm's path…after all, she had grown up in the wild with only her father for company, and she was accustomed to being chased about by dinosaurs and various members of the long-gone Red Ribbon Army (though they were few and very far between).  She was a warrior by nature, and contrary to popular belief she still enjoyed sparring as well as the occasional fight.  She wanted to know what was going on.

            Goku glanced over at his wife, frowning.  Chi-Chi had been through a lot this past year, and Kami knows she had been relying on Bulma and Yamcha for company.  She wasn't going to be too keen on losing him again, should something happen.  If anything, his wife was likely to attack whatever threatened to come between them, even if it meant her own life would be forfeit.  "I have no idea," he confessed.  "I don't know what's going on, or what it is, or if there's even anything dangerous out there."

            "Then you are an idiot, Son Goku," came Piccolo's low growl.  All eyes settled on the Namek as he turned the full force of his glare on the Saiyan.  "Have you felt nothing following you in space?"  The slight shake of Goku's head did little to lessen Piccolo's anger.  "King Kai caught on to someone or something that was tracking your space pod," he rumbled.  "They've been following you from the moment you regained your consciousness.  From the looks of it, they've come to Earth for you."

            Goku narrowed his eyes.  "How would you know about all of this, Piccolo?" he demanded.

            To the surprise of all, it was Chiaotzu who spoke up next.  "Goku," he piped, "he isn't lying to you.  Tien and I both listened in on his conversation with King Kai, and _he_ had said that you were being followed.  Piccolo hasn't done anything to any of us, and he won't do anything again, either."  _Believe him on this one,_ was the unspoken statement between them.

            Goku fancied that the crazy expression on his face mirrored that of Piccolo.  The Namek's face had blanched an interesting shade of green, bordering on yellow.  He was torn between confusion about the unexpected help and anger that someone had dared to presume what he would and would not be doing with himself.  He obviously had no idea what to do with the mess before him.  The Saiyan had to stifle a chuckle.  "All right, then how do I know when these beings are going to be here?"

            Now it was Bulma's turn to glower at him.  "Duh!" she exclaimed, smacking the side of her forehead for emphasis.  "They have to land _some_ time, Goku.  You can be so dense sometimes!"

            "Bulma," the man said, "I may not be a technical genius, but I think I already know that."

            The group laughed halfheartedly as the blue-haired woman sputtered, at a loss for words.  Yamcha and Krillin knew Goku well enough that if he felt something was wrong, then there was something wrong.  Chiaotzu and Tien were beginning to believe that there was much more behind Piccolo than senseless destruction and chaos, that Gohan really _had_ changed him, and that he wouldn't use a phony excuse to destroy them all as they stood in one spot.  Although Chi-Chi thought that was entirely possible.  The Earth's special forces had come to realize that Piccolo, like it or not, was going to be a part of them.  And each part of the whole was listened to.

            "Be quiet, all of you!" Piccolo hissed as he spun around and faced the group, jolting each human (or Saiyan) out of his or her thoughts.  "I don't care what you are thinking right now, but it can wait until later.  This 'something' is headed for the clearing behind me, and I would prefer to meet it head-on."  The Namek turned back around and leapt lightly into the air, speeding toward the vast expanse of open space about a mile away.

            Goku watched his one-time rival head off.  "Chi-Chi," he said, "I think you should go back home."

            The woman looked at her husband in shock.  "Goku, why?"

            "I don't want anything happening to you."  The Saiyan bowed his head in embarrassment at his display of emotion.

            "He's right, you know, Chi-Chi," Krillin added.  "The guys we've been fighting lately haven't been the same type as the guys you're used to.  These people mean business.  I mean, that Frieza guy killed me without even touching me, and he almost killed Piccolo with one hit!  We're all liabilities here.  Goku, and maybe Piccolo and Vegeta, is really the only one in their league."

            "Then it would be best if we left," Yamcha said, gritting his teeth.

            The Saiyan cleared his throat.  "I don't like it any more than you do, Yamcha, and everyone, but if the things coming are hostile, I don't want any of you to die.  Please, go back to my house and wait for me.  If it's clear, I'll come back and tell you."  Goku looked into Chi-Chi's eyes, and they locked gazes for a minute.  The woman dropped her eyes first.

            "All right, Goku," she whispered.  "But be careful.  I don't want to lose you now that I've got you back."

            "Wait for me."  He pressed a finger to her lips before turning to Krillin.  "Krillin, would you take Chi-Chi and Gohan home?"

            "Sure thing, Goku," the other man replied.

            "Dad, why can't I come with you?" Gohan asked angrily.  "I've been training for fights like this since I was four!  Why can't I?"

            The boy's father knelt down in front of him, coming eye-to-eye with the child that had made him so proud.  "I know, Gohan," Goku said, "and I'm very proud of you.  I know you have a power inside you somewhere, but you haven't learned to control it.  I can't risk you being out on the battlefield without being fully in control of yourself.  Maybe next time, squirt."

            Gohan sighed, taking a sudden interest in how green the grass was.  "Okay, dad."  He lowered his eyes and turned away, dragging his feet as he trudged over to his mother.

            Goku frowned.  _There's something I forgot to mention to the little guy, isn't there? _he thought.  "Oh yeah!" he exclaimed.  "And Gohan," he added, watching as his son turned back around, "when I get back, I'll take you fishing."  The gratitude that shined through the boy's eyes more than adequately lightened his attitude.  Then Krillin and Gohan took off, carrying Chi-Chi between them.

            "Come back alive, Goku," Bulma called, waving her arms frantically as Yamcha followed suit.

            "I'm surprised Chi-Chi didn't panic about you going out there with Piccolo," Tien said, smirking at him.

            "I don't think she remembered," Goku said, frowning again.  "But you guys had better get going.  If whatever-it-is is actually hostile, I don't want you and Chiaotzu caught up in the fight."

            "I know, Goku," Chiaotzu piped, "but are you sure you won't need us for anything?"  Tien joined his smaller counterpart in staring down the Saiyan.

            In response, Goku tapped his right forefingers to his temple.  "I'll ask Piccolo to call you if something happens."

            Chiaotzu nodded once and flew off.

            "If I feel that you need help out there, Goku," Tien said, "I'm going to come back.  Whether you call for help or not."

            Goku grinned.  "That's fine.  I'll see ya later.  Make sure Chi-Chi doesn't start dinner without me."

            Both men nodded to each other and flew off in opposite directions.  _This is going to be one heck of a fight,_ Goku thought.  _For a second there, I thought Piccolo was going to catch me!  He probably knows, though.  He's just not saying anything.  Not that I blame him or anything.  _Goku winced.  _Although he could tell me where Vegeta went.  I don't think he's the type of guy who would miss something like this._

            Goku landed a moment later next to Piccolo, a light sheen of sweat on his skin.  "Did I miss anything?" he panted.

            Piccolo did not miss Goku's lack of breath.  "They'll be here in a minute," he said sharply, glancing sideways at his fighting companion.  The man's eyes were bright with excitement, and had he still possessed a tail it would have been lashing back and forth.  "You did not tell them, Son Goku," he added.  "You could have used the extra rest."

            Goku waved a hand dismissively at the Namek.  "Nah.  I just have to catch my breath."

            Piccolo sneered at him, folding his arms across his chest and allowing the never-ceasing winds to billow his cape out behind him.  "You might have been able to get everyone else to believe you, but I am not so easily tricked, Goku.  You already know that.  Your little slip into stasis didn't heal you as you led the humans to think.  You're whole, but you don't have the _ki_ to hold your own in an extended fight."  The Namek quirked an eye ridge at him, expecting a response.

            The Saiyan felt his mouth drop open.  "How…but how…was it that noticeable?" he stuttered, glancing quickly at the sky for any indication of an imminent hostile alien takeover.  A few wispy clouds made their way across the crystal blue of the heavens, but outside of that nothing was visible.  Yet.  "I didn't think it was all that obvious, was it?"

            Piccolo smirked.  "How you forget, Son Goku, that I was created to destroy you.  I was born knowing most of your actions and habits."

            "Then I suppose I should be glad that we're fighting on the same team again?"

            "Perhaps you should."  Piccolo then glowed faintly and pointed his hand at the other man.  Goku did not even have time to protest as he was wrapped in a dimly-glowing green light.  It took a whole of five seconds for the light to fade, and when it did, Goku was clothed in a fresh orange gi.

            The man looked over at Piccolo, puzzlement openly shown on his face.  "What gives, Piccolo?" he asked, genuinely confused.  "Why'd you go and do that?  Doesn't it use your own _ki_?"  He gave the material an experimental pull and found, to his delight, that it didn't tear.  It was lightweight and soft to the touch.  He had no idea how Piccolo had managed to materialize the cloth, but he didn't question him.

            "If you want to keep up your image of strength, you don't want to go into battle already looking as if you were beaten into the earth.  Materializing cloth doesn't use _ki_ either, as I found out on Namek.  It's a racial ability, magic."

            If Goku was confused before, he was utterly lost now.  "Magic?  As in spells and wands and books?  Kinda like Uranai Baba, right?  No, wait, she's a witch.  I didn't know Nameks used sorcery!" he exclaimed.

            It was obvious by the look on his face that Piccolo did not think highly of Goku's reasoning capabilities.  "How _else_ do you think the Nameks created the Dragonballs?" he snapped.  From the mischievous look that crossed the Saiyan's face, Piccolo determined that he would not want to hear Goku's idea.  Just as he was about to make another comment at Goku's expense, he heard a faint metallic squeal.  _Damn,_ he thought as he gritted his teeth, ignoring Goku's question about what was happening.  _They're here._  He uncrossed his arms and stood still, watching as a metal oblong shape appeared above them.

            For Goku's part, the man was silent after asking what was going on.  He, too, was watching, waiting, as the ship's landing gear emerged from their respective slots.  It took only a minute after Piccolo's initial reaction to the noise for the ship to land.  He gritted his teeth as well as the ship settled itself into the earth, sending dust flying everywhere and obscuring his view of the vehicle.  The tension in the air was thick enough to cut as the door to the alien spacecraft opened, swirling yet more dust into their faces.

            "Well, well, well," came a mellow-toned voice from somewhere inside the dust cloud.  "It looks like we have a welcoming party, brother."

            _Brother? _Goku thought.  _There's two of them?  Great.  This is just not my day, is it?  I wasn't even home for an hour!_

            Goku and Piccolo both heard the tell-tale beeping of a Scouter.  "There are only two of them," said the second voice, not much deeper than the first.  This one seemed to be slightly off to the right of and behind the first voice.  "And their _ki_ levels are pitiful.  Shall we still use the psi-down/G mixture?"

            _Psi-what? _Goku thought.  _What are they talking about?_  "Show yourselves already!" he shouted.  "We didn't come here to sit around all day!"  To his right, Piccolo growled low in his throat, sensing something that Goku wasn't able to pick up on.

            Until that something was splashed across his face.  There was an apparently silent signal that had been given between the two beings in the doorway, and whatever it was had been an affirmative.  He grunted in surprise and wiped some type of liquid out of his eyes.  He could hear Piccolo doing the same next to him.  "I don't have time for your tricks!" he yelled again.  "Come out!"

            And they did.

            Two men, one the size of Goku and the other easily topping Piccolo's own tall frame, stepped forward out of the dust and into their view.  Both were broad-shouldered and heavily muscled, wearing Ginyu Force-style armor and garments.  The scraggly black hair on their heads was long and kept out of their faces with bandannas.  Their skin was a rather dusky color.  What drew Goku's attention was the tails around their waists.  What caught Piccolo's attention were their eyes, both a light blue and both lacking any emotion.

            "They have the same eyes as Frieza," Piccolo growled, furrowing his brow.

            As Goku stared in horror at the aliens' tails, the smaller man spoke up again, a wicked gleam in his eyes.  "So we finally meet, Kakarot," he declared, "only to see you destroyed."

            "What?" the Saiyan squawked.

            "You heard him," the taller alien spat.  "You are a traitor, Kakarot, and you must be destroyed."

* * * * *

Thanks again for reading.  Please leave a review for me.

I'm hoping to get the next chapter out within a week.  I have most of it typed up already, but I have to fight for my Internet time.  Wish me luck…it will be my first actual attempt at a fight scene. *grin*

~Dreamwraith


	10. Chapter Ten

I would like to apologize for confusing you with the scene switching a few chapters back.  I should be done with that…thanks for letting me know.

Just a bit of info: Goku actually has a brain in the manga, and that is how I will write him.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own DBZ.  I do own Kadrin and Morodath, a few miscellaneous characters and places, and the computer I'm typing this up on.

**Chapter Ten**

            Piccolo raised an eye ridge at the scene unfolding before him.  "Goku," he growled softly, "I'm beginning to think it's unhealthy to have you around."

            "What did I do now?" Goku asked incredulously, eying up the two supposed Saiyans before him, the shorter of which wore a Scouter.  "I've lived on this planet my whole life.  I didn't even know I was a Saiyan until a few years ago!  How could I have possibly betrayed these guys?"  He blinked a few times as the wind shifted directions, causing his eyes to tear up.

            "I'm sure you'd find a way," came Piccolo's sarcastic response.

            The taller alien squinted his eyes in the sunlight.  "Ah," he said after a moment, "so I am not seeing things, brother.  There's a Namek standing with the traitor."

            "Then I suppose you're glad you used the mixture, aren't you?  It will make our job that much easier," the other man replied, removing the Scouter from his face and placing it into a pouch at his side.  He then turned toward Goku and Piccolo.  "Please excuse Morodath.  He is not always the most polite person to be around.  My name is Kadrin, and I am going to destroy you, Kakarot," he said with a grin, shifting his right hand to the hilt of the sheathed sword at his side.

            "What's with the destroying?" Goku spat.  "Are you too self-righteous to say 'kill'?  I thought that's what all Saiyans did.  Are you trying to prove me wrong?"

            The alien who called himself Kadrin narrowed his eyes and snorted.  "Don't be ridiculous.  The only Saiyans left alive are yourself and the prince, Vegeta.  We are no monkeys.  Morodath and I are Elite.  We are perfection, the end result of the merging of several handfuls of species."

            This time it was Piccolo's turn to snort.  "So you're just a couple of genetic mutts, is that right?" he asked, a wicked smirk on his face.  He knew well that pissing them off would cloud their judgment, as it did with most living beings.  Hopefully, these two were no exception.

            The pun was not lost on either hybrid.  "You'd better watch your mouth, green man, before we close it permanently," Morodath growled.  Piccolo growled right back, and if a fight had broken out then it would have been easy to see who each of them would have gone for.  The hybrid made as if he would lunge at him, and the only thing holding him back was his brother, who stopped him with a glance.

            "All right," Goku said viciously, enough so that Piccolo looked over quickly to make sure he was still well.  "Obviously, then, we're not here to talk.  We're here to fight.  So bring it on already!"  The full-blooded Saiyan dropped into a crouch, both hands extended in front of him.  Piccolo fell back into a defensive stance as well, genuinely surprised at Goku's sudden aggressiveness.  _What has gotten into him?_ he thought.  _He was not like this when I saw him last.  Perhaps this is what being a Super Saiyan did to him?_  The green man never did like sudden surprises, a hold-back from the time when killing Son Goku was his goal in life, and the Saiyan's behavior was definitely a sudden surprise.

            Piccolo didn't have time to ponder the thought further.  With little warning, Morodath charged out of the ship and towards him.  _So it begins,_ he grumbled sourly as he leapt to the right, avoiding the flurry of jabs from the stocky hybrid.  Out of the corner of his eye he caught the glint of metal as Kadrin drew his sword.  _At least that one is going for Goku._

            "So that is what he is called on this planet," Morodath chuckled maliciously.  "Goku.  What a name.  It's pathetic, don't you agree, Namek?"  Upon seeing the look of surprise and outrage that crossed Piccolo's face, the hybrid laughed again.  "Surely you don't think Nameks are the only species with psychic abilities, do you?"  He paused his own onslaught long enough to watch the onset of his brother's.  "Namek, you picked the wrong man to ally with," he growled.  "Kadrin is one of the greatest warriors in the universe, second only to Lord Frieza and his family."

            Piccolo growled low in his throat.  _I didn't even feel him enter my mind!  What sort of creature is this?_  He jumped back and crouched down to avoid a sudden swing from his opponent.

            "Kadrin told you what we are, Namek.  We are the Elites," Morodath stated calmly as the green man attempted to knock his feet out from under him with a sweep.  The man then lunged at Piccolo again, and Piccolo was forced to leap up into the air, pushing himself up with all his might so he flew several yards before the other warrior even realized he was gone.  The hybrid punched a hole into the ground where Piccolo had just crouched.  The Namek had been close enough to see the pale blue fire burning in his eyes.  He gritted his teeth, knowing beyond a doubt that this fight would last a long time.

            Goku was faring better, but not by much.  He stood two paces away from Kadrin, who seemed as calm as Morodath about the fight.  The hybrid was twirling his sword about in a circle like an oversized baton, a not-so-subtle reminder of who had the upper hand.  It seemed to be wet, the Saiyan noted.  After half a minute of a silent power struggle, Goku spoke up.  "You haven't told me why you're here to kill me," he said, tensing his muscles in case the other man decided to attack again.  His last stroke had almost given Goku a new haircut, and even now Goku was beginning to doubt his decision to send away Tien and Gohan.  Piccolo was right; he simply didn't have the _ki_ to outlast Kadrin if it came down to time, and right about now that was what it seemed.

            The other man shrugged.  "If you so desire, Kakarot.  You were sent to this planet as an infant to destroy its inhabitants, yet here they all are today.  You still have not finished your job, which should have taken you a whole of two years.  You're an incompetent, Kakarot, and you must die."  Kadrin paused for an instant before he continued, a wide grin painted on his face.  "And I have an especial dislike for incompetents."

            "Oh, great," Goku sarcastically exclaimed.  "Is the rest of my life going to be spent killing off the maniacs that threaten my home?  First it was my brother, then it was Vegeta, and then Frieza, and now you two?  Why can't you people just leave us alone?"

            "You admit to killing Lord Frieza?"  The man stopped spinning his sword around and allowed its tip to rest in the dirt.

            Goku winced as he caught a glimpse of Morodath's fist connecting with Piccolo's jaw, sending the Namek flying.  "Yes, I admit it," he said, returning his stare to Kadrin.  "It had to be done.  The monster was evil to the core, and he would not reform."

            At this the hybrid laughed, halting his brother's battle with Piccolo.  He laughed harder at the expression of bewilderment on Goku's face.  "Reform?" he said between gasping for air and laughter.  "You, a Saiyan planet purifier, speaking of reform?  Kakarot, you amaze me.  You asked Lord Frieza to give up that which he most holds dear?"  The hybrid was in danger of wetting himself in his mirth, so amused he was at the image of a _Saiyan_ offering forgiveness to the murderer of his people.  "I am glad I have to dispose of you," he said after a moment.  "You are a liability to the remnants of your people.  All two of you."  The smirk that crossed his face reminded Goku of Radditz, when he had come to the Kame House and kidnapped Gohan.  A chill ran down his spine at the thought of this man doing the same thing.

            "I offer the same option to you and your brother, Kadrin," Goku said, shaking off his fear and placing his hands on his hips, determined not to let this strange man break him down.  "If you leave this planet and its inhabitants alone and promise to stop hurting people, I'll let you go.  You'd be free to leave."

            Piccolo felt his mouth open in shock, and he was fairly sure Morodath did the same.  The Namek was flustered enough that he nearly missed the slight jump in Kadrin's _ki_.  _Is he mad?_ he screamed in his mind.  _These two could cream us, as weak as he is!  I'm strong, I've come a long way this past year, but there's no way I can possibly hold off the both of them!_  "Goku!" he shouted, aware that the hybrid a few feet away from him was going to recover from his surprise within the next few seconds.  "What the hell do you think you're doing?  You can't convert these guys!  Look at his eyes!  He's one of Frieza's people!  It's in his blood…you can't change him!"

            Kadrin turned his head towards Piccolo.  "Well, well, for one of such a pitiful power level, you know more than you should.  Tell me, Namek, how do _you_ know of Lord Frieza?"

            "I fought with him on my world, _Saiyan,_" Piccolo spat.  "I made him transform to his third stage before he defeated me."

            The expression that crossed both hybrids' faces was priceless.  "_You?_" Kadrin sputtered angrily.  His face flushed crimson as he began to shake with rage.

            _You've done it now, Piccolo,_ Goku thought as he began to gather his _ki,_ fully expecting all hell to break loose.  _You have no idea what you just started, do you?_  He was mildly surprised when Piccolo didn't answer him.  He was usually very defensive about his plans and his fighting skills, and if he had not changed much since the fighting on Namek he would have come up with a scathing retort.  Interesting.  Why wasn't he answering?

            "You faced off against Lord Frieza?" Morodath continued for his brother.  "And yet you are still alive, but how?  You're a weakling!"

            Piccolo gave them his customary smirk.  "Then you don't know how to sense _ki_, do you?" he said smugly, folding his arms across his chest.  "I thought as much, primitive freaks that you are.  If you could, you'd realize you were outmatched against him."  He tilted his head toward Goku.

            "You dare to call the Elite _primitive_?" the taller hybrid bellowed, activating his mental abilities for the first time during the fight.  In his anger he blindly lashed out at the first living things he sensed, sending a searing wave of pain through the other three warriors as he tore through their minds.  Piccolo dropped to his knees and clutched at his head, trembling slightly from the force of the mental attack; he had been the closest to the irate man.

            "Morodath!  Watch what you're doing!" Kadrin roared, clutching his temples as well and dropping his sword.

            The younger brother was too wrapped up in his anger that he paid the man little heed, instead shifting his attack to Piccolo alone.  The Namek was hard-pressed to keep the attack from damaging his mind; he gritted his teeth to hold back the pain.  It was all he could do, and more, to keep Morodath from overwhelming his own well-set defenses.  But for some strange reason, they didn't seem to be working.  Why not?  Nobody had ever been able to overwhelm his mind before, save the creature that had somehow controlled Uranai Baba's crystal orb.  Could they be one in the same?

            Piccolo shook his head violently as Morodath stopped his attack, ridding himself of the residual feeling that something foul had left its slime in his unconscious mind.  It wasn't possible, he decided.  That creature had minions of some sort, and unless Morodath had left them somewhere, he wasn't the one responsible for the previous attack.  He couldn't be sure, though.  There had to be _some_ way to find out.

            Goku was far enough away that the mental attack only grazed his mind.  He winced briefly, taking note of how both Piccolo and Kadrin were affected, and how Morodath seemed out of breath when he dropped out of his rage.  He winced in sympathy as Piccolo staggered in his attempt to stand.  _Hmm,_ he thought.  _I thought Piccolo had mental blocks up against something like that.  Could that be what the "psi-down" did?  If that's so, then what does "G" do?_  The Saiyan allowed himself a fleeting smile as Piccolo straightened his back and spat at the hybrid's feet.

            Then the light bulb turned on.  _So _that's _why Piccolo's trying to piss him off!  If he gets angry enough, he won't be able to focus on anything, and we'll be able to take him down!_  "Right," Goku grunted as he launched himself across the ground at the distracted man.  "Bring it on."  He twisted his body about so his right foot led the charge.

            Goku expected Morodath to be focused on Piccolo and therefore less attentive where he was concerned.  Not surprisingly, Goku was shocked when his flight was forcibly halted.  He stopped a mere handspan away from the panting hybrid's face.  Out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of a green and white blur, which was stopped just as abruptly as he was.  Apparently Piccolo had had the same thing on his mind.  Goku peeked over his pant leg and saw the hybrid's sly grin.  He had one hand outstretched in front of each of them, holding them in place.

            _Damn, _Piccolo swore as Kadrin picked up the sword again and began checking it for damage.  _This hulking monster has us both trapped in his mental nets, and I can't break out of it!  Damn it!_  In his anger the Namek began to concentrate his _ki_, setting off the Scouter Kadrin had placed in its pouch.  _If I can break his concentration, perhaps he'll drop the net.  How hard can it be to break a Saiyan's mindset?  All you have to do is attack their pride.  It worked with Nappa._  "Wasn't one attack good enough for you, mutt?  Couldn't finish me off weeks ago, could you?" Piccolo grunted.  "Or couldn't your little winged friends do the job?"

            _Well, might as well kill two birds with one stone, as the Earthlings say,_ he thought as he began to further charge his _ki_.  Goku caught on to his idea and began to do the same, tensing his muscles and testing the invisible restraints bit by bit.

            "What are you babbling about, Namek?" Morodath said haltingly, a bead of sweat beginning to form on his forehead.  "I…have no need for minions!  I am Elite!"

            "Then why did you send them ahead of you?  Couldn't trust your own senses?"

            The tall man ground his teeth in frustration, loosening his hold on the two warriors ever so slightly.  "I have no scouts, green man," he spat, the hand focused on Piccolo trembling.  "We are the most powerful warriors in the universe now!  We have no need for such weaklings!"

            "Is that why you need to kill Goku?  Because he killed your overlord?" Piccolo rasped, containing a smirk.  Well, at least he'd determined _something_.  Even if his big mouth would get him killed.

            "_He is an incompetent!_" the hybrid yelled, losing his last vestige of self-control.  "Kakarot is a throwback to our glorious name, and he cannot remain alive!  He is a traitor!"

            "What are you doing?" Kadrin demanded as he reached his free hand into the pouch and fished around for the Scouter.  He hastily jammed it on over his face and focused it first on Goku, then on Piccolo.  Upon reading the numbers on the display, he cursed in two or three different languages and scowled.

            "What…is it?" Morodath panted, his face flushed with the strain of holding both Saiyan and Namek.  Their focused _ki_ spike was beginning to take its toll on him, even after two or three minutes.

            "Their _ki_ has just about tripled, the both of them!" Kadrin growled, raising the tip of his sword to eye level as he began to stalk near Piccolo.  "I can't explain it, but they've been suppressing their _ki_!"

            "I told you how primitive you were, mutt," the Namek muttered as the hybrid came face-to-face with him.

            "Tell me how you did this!" the man demanded, raising the sword to the green man's face.  "How did you conceal your _ki_ so effectively?"  When Piccolo refused to answer him with anything but a smirk and a grunt, Kadrin swiped the tip of the blade across his cheek, drawing blood from the shallow scratch.

            The Namek laughed sharply, the sound cutting across the man's ears like a sour note.  "Is that all you've got?" he asked.  Then, with a mighty burst of _ki_, Piccolo freed himself from Morodath's mental clutches.  So powerful was the thrust that the hybrid was completely set off-balance, and the Namek was able to knock him out with a single swift blow to the temple.  The taller man crumpled without a sound.  Goku was dropped onto his back, and he clumsily rolled over and stood up.

            "You idiot!" Kadrin seethed.  "You tricked me, evil Namek scum!  Filth!  Refuse!  Waste!"  He punctuated each word by stabbing at the air with the sword.

            "It worked, Piccolo," Goku breathed.  "For a second there, I thought we were going to be trapped for quite a while.  I didn't realize you'd been training so hard, though!"

            Piccolo snorted as he watched the ranting hybrid pace in a circle about his unconscious brother.  "A likely excuse."  He then slid his hands under his turban and lifted it from his head.  He threw it to the ground behind him, following it with his weighted cape.  "What else am I to do on this planet?"

            Goku shrugged weakly, following the hybrid's movements with his eyes.  "Beats me.  But all that _ki_ spiking's made me a bit…tired.  I think I'm gonna rest…for just…a…min…"  The weak statement was followed by a dull thud as the man hit the ground, completely drained of energy.  He was unconscious before Piccolo even had the chance to turn his head.

            _Shit._  The sole word repeated itself in the Namek's mind as Kadrin stopped ranting like a madman.  The hybrid took one look at the fallen Saiyan and began to chuckle.  _This is not good._  Piccolo had to catch himself before he showed his shock to the enemy.  The man suddenly grew serious, a deadly calm settled across his features.

            "Namek," Kadrin said as he looked him dead in the eye, "I was beginning to wonder when Kakarot would collapse.  I knew he was exhausted right from the beginning.  It was fairly obvious, you know."  He laughed once at the expression on Piccolo's face.  "Come now, did you really think I wouldn't recognize a spent fighter?  _You're_ the one I want to fight, and now that you've been kind enough to dispatch Morodath for me, shall we begin?"

            Piccolo felt his eyes bug out of their sockets, and he didn't bother to hide his surprise.  "You mean to tell me this was all a set-up?  Just so you could fight me?" he exclaimed, dropping into a defensive crouch through instinct.

            The hybrid smirked.  "I'm glad that you have brains, at least, Namek.  This will be the first real battle I've had in a while.  I can finally fight freely.  And now there's no holding back."  With a yell, Kadrin began to charge his _ki_ so rapidly the very air they breathed crackled with it.  The enormous amount of _ki_ caused the ground itself to rumble and break apart, and still the hybrid yelled on.

            _He's been suppressing his ki!_  Piccolo grimaced as the other man's form began to crackle with concentrated energy.  Within a few seconds his _ki _surpassed his own, and he knew he hadn't much farther to go before he reached his maximum power.  _How am I supposed to fight something like this?_ he wondered.  _It wouldn't be the first time, but I am not looking forward to this._  He dropped quickly into a lunge, arms forward as if to ward off a blow.  He was ready to fight, and he meant business.

            Kadrin gave him little time to react before he flew forward, knocking the unsettled Namek back.

            From miles away, Tien and Gohan felt the battle begin in earnest.  The sound waves from the mighty blows exchanged were heard and felt from the Son residence, and neither of them knew what to make of it.  Gohan looked at the older man, expecting reassurance that would not come.  After nearly five minutes of following the fight, neither man nor boy were able to tell what was going on.  "Tien, we have to go back and help them," the boy pleaded.  "Piccolo needs us, I can feel it!"

            The triclops shook his head, feeling Krillin come up behind him.  "No, Gohan," he said sternly, eyes anxiously scanning the horizon.  "We can't go in there.  There's too much stray _ki_ bouncing around out there, and we'd be fried to a crisp within moments of getting involved."

            "But I can't feel my dad's _ki_ signature!" Gohan whimpered.  "There's got to be something we can do to help!"  He made as if to leap to the rescue; his sparring partner stopped him as his muscles tensed.

            "Bro, there's nothing we can do," Krillin said gently.  "They're out of our league.  Your dad said it himself.  Besides, he said he'd call us if he needed us, and how likely will that be?  One of them's down already!"

            Gohan frowned as he turned his attention back to the battle.  "But something doesn't feel right, Krillin.  There's something different about Piccolo's _ki_, almost like there's someone else there with him.  I just can't place it."

            "Are you sensing Nail?  Don't forget that he's in there too!"

            The boy sighed.  "You might be right," he conceded after a moment of silence.  But deep down, he knew something was amiss.  The mental bond he shared with his Namekian mentor was strong indeed, but there seemed to be something blocking it, if that was even possible.  His seven-year-old mind might not be mature enough to understand why, but he almost always knew when something was wrong with Piccolo.  "Please be all right, Piccolo, and dad," he whispered as he followed the Namek's _ki_.  "Make sure you both come back alive."

* * * * *

I can't believe I've already finished the tenth chapter.  Time flies when you're having fun, right?  Well, as always, let me know what you think of it.  'Til next time.

~Dreamwraith


	11. Chapter Eleven

I would like to thank Wicked Woman, Red Tigress, Suiren, and Aeroshockwave for reviewing the last chapter.  Thank you for letting me know there's still someone out there who thinks this story is good enough to review.  Here, at long last, is the first part of the fight.

**Disclaimer:** Insert a witty disclaimer here.  I don't feel like making one now.

**Chapter Eleven**

            Piccolo flew backwards a few feet before twisting his body around and flipping over, landing on his feet.  He glared at Kadrin, whose Scouter still beeped every few seconds.  The genetic hybrid had his sword out in front of him now, and he seemed fully intent on impaling him with it.

            "Well, Namek, your _ki_ increases steadily by the second," the man growled, "but you do not fight back.  Why is that, may I ask?"

            _Because my ears are still ringing from your blasted brother's attack, is that a good enough reason for you?  Because I can't see straight?  Or is it perhaps because I don't pick fights with idiots?_  Piccolo's response to the man was a warning growl.  Kadrin had simply been playing with him for the past few minutes, and he knew it.  The scratch on his cheek was beginning to pain him, though it wasn't distracting yet.  The flesh around it was swelling, he could feel it.  He was also beginning to feel the strain of keeping ahead of the much stronger man long enough for Goku to stand back up.

            "What's the matter?  Cat got your tongue?" the alien taunted as he flew up to the Namek, sword leading the way.  Piccolo grimaced as he barely evaded the strike, feeling the very tip of the metal tear a hole through his gi and graze his stomach.  "I know there must be something you have to say to me," Kadrin continued.

            Piccolo looked into the hybrid's ice-cold eyes and smirked.  "You're right.  I do."  Then he threw his hands back above his head, crossing the left in front of the right.  "_Masenko!_" he shouted as he loosed an enormous ball of _ki_, the summation of what he had gathered at that point.

            Kadrin merely looked puzzled, until the blast came too close for comfort.  "Ma-what?" he exclaimed, breaking off the word as he leapt unceremoniously out of the way, landing on all fours in a bare patch of earth.  His sword clanged harshly as it hit a rock in the ground, but he didn't let it out of his grasp.  The blast was close enough that he felt the heat begin to singe his hair before passing overhead.  He lifted his head in time to see the _Masenko_ burn its way through three or four pillars of rock.

            "That's from Goku's son," Piccolo said as he flew low into the cloud of dust after him, head-butting him as he rose from the ground.

            Kadrin stumbled back, crossing his arms in front of his chest as the Namek began pummeling him rapidly.  The green man had speed; he could give him credit for that much.  But brute strength?  He'd taken a few hits from Kakarot, and _that_ guy could've packed quite a punch if he hadn't already been so weak.  The punches the Namek threw were thought out and rather intense, but they lacked the force a Saiyan could put into them.  But still, if he had some different training…

            "Namek," he said suddenly, quick-stepping back to avoid having his face slashed open by Piccolo's taloned hand, "I have a proposition for you."

            "Not interested," Piccolo growled, spiking his _ki_ and knocking the other man back.  He charged a _ki_ ball as swiftly as possible and threw it at Kadrin, hopefully hitting him before he could throw up a shield.

            The hybrid swatted the ball away as if it were a fly.  "I'll make you a deal.  I'll leave this place, this Earth, but you have to come with us."

            "_What?_"  Piccolo had seen and heard some interesting things before, but this by far topped them all.  "The only way you're leaving is in pieces, mutt," he snapped.  "I'm not interested in your little scheme to live."

            "On the contrary, Namek, I'm offering _you_ a chance to live."  Kadrin stepped forward and extended his hand in a mockery of camaraderie.  "I want to know how a mere Namek was able to stand before Frieza and fight.  Join us, and we can destroy the universe.  Fight it, and die.  What do you say?"

            _This man is insane._  Piccolo shook his head in disbelief, that such a powerful being could be so unstable.  "I told you I wasn't interested.  I left that path over a year ago."  He spiked his _ki_ again, the ground rumbling with its force.  The grass whipped about as if it was in a hurricane, and small stones began lifting out of the ground.  Then larger rocks, and boulders, levitated and split…and the Namek attacked, landing his fist in the hybrid's sternum.

            The two fought on for what seemed like hours (and most likely was).  It was a simple routine: Piccolo attacked, swiftly and viciously; Kadrin blocked.  If he spotted an opening in the other man's defenses he took it, and the roles reversed.  Block, attack.  Block, attack.  Kadrin would swing his sword at Piccolo's face, and Piccolo would dodge it and return the attack with a roundhouse kick.  Then one of them would drop to duck a high punch or kick and knock the other one over.  That one would flip himself backwards before lunging forward and starting the volley all over again.

            It was only when the sky began to darken ever so slightly that Kadrin managed to gain the upper hand.  Piccolo may have had speed and wit on his side, but Kadrin had been created for battle.  Every cell in his body was made for the fight, genetically enhanced and selected.  Piccolo had no such advantage.  He was a demon, true, and it lent him strength and stamina, but not nearly enough to match a demi-Saiyan on equal footing for hours.  His Namekian heritage didn't prepare him for waging a war, the wishes of his father regardless.  After what seemed like an eternity of fighting, Piccolo erred, his arm extending too far to one side when Kadrin leapt away from a punch.

            The hybrid grabbed Piccolo's arm and spun him around in circles, allowing his ever-building momentum to carry them both around.  He released him into the tree.  Piccolo flew straight through it and landed hard, skidding along the ground and nearly hitting Goku's prone form.  Kadrin followed through with his offense, swinging his sword before him as he flew forward.  The Namek had enough time to leap back, but the hybrid's blade left a nasty gash on his leg.

            _Damn him,_ Piccolo snarled as he touched down lightly, watching as Kadrin charged a _ki_ ball.  He squinted as he felt something wet soaking the gi material around the wound, knowing that it must be at least moderately serious for so much blood to have already trickled out.  He was able to deflect that one back at him, but the second and third ones he had to twist and contort to avoid.  Second and third?  And _fourth?_

            Kadrin laughed at the expression on Piccolo's face.  "Did you think you were the only one capable of throwing _ki_ balls, Namek?  It looks like that's what you thought."  He paused to hurl the fifth ball at him.  "Or perhaps you've realized that _you're_ the one who's leaving in pieces!"

            Piccolo growled as the hybrid charged the sixth ball.  "Doubt it," he said as he prepared to deflect it.  He lunged back to make himself a smaller target, as if he were Yamcha getting ready to hit a baseball.

            Kadrin smirked, then threw the _ki_ ball at him.

            The Namek narrowed his eyes in concentration, and he began to pivot to deflect the ball.  But just as the blast came into range, the injured muscles in his leg spasmed, and his concentration was broken as he shifted his weight to the other leg.  It happened in under a second, but that was enough.

            The _ki_ ball hit him and exploded on impact, the force sending him flying backwards through the air.  He felt the breath rush out of his lungs as he hit the ground, and it was a struggle for him to leap back up.  _How…how did he pack so much _ki_ into one ball?  Doesn't he know what he's doing?_  "How did you suppress your _ki_, Saiyan?" Piccolo panted, glaring as the hybrid's form appeared in the dust left by the blast.  It vanished just as quickly, and the green man forced his _ki_ senses into overdrive to find him.

            "I was born to it, Namek.  That's the beauty of being fawned over in a laboratory.  I was created to do many things."  The voice came from behind him, Piccolo realized an instant too late.  Kadrin loomed out of the cloud of dust, smiling wickedly, with his free hand balled up into a fist.  He had enough time to turn his head as the hybrid rammed his fist into his back.  The Namek went into a roll, feeling more than hearing the blade of the sword whistle through the space his head would have been occupying.  He stood up a few paces away, but Kadrin was ready for him, and the hybrid threw another powerful punch at the disoriented Namek.

            Piccolo staggered under Kadrin's blow.  How much more of this could he take, he wondered, as the strength behind the strike sent a ripple of pain through his bruised body.  _Goku, wake up!_ he silently begged the Saiyan's unconscious form, barely dodging yet another _ki_ blast from the hybrid.  He was beginning to tire, and he knew it.  And Goku had been out for the entire battle.  _There's not enough power left in me to finish him off._  Had the Saiyan actually been conscious to hear Piccolo's desperate plea, he would have fallen over in shock.  Piccolo _never_ asked, let alone begged, for help.

            His quick reflexes saved his life.

            He instinctively fell into a crouch and brought his arms up in front of his body to ward off a blow from the sword that could have cut him in two.  The Namek cried out as he felt the sharp metal cut deeply into his arms.  Piccolo rarely made any sound when fighting, and the very fact that he voiced his pain only proved how desperate the situation was.  He knew he wouldn't be able to use either arm for a long time after the fight, even with his remarkable regenerative abilities.

            "So you actually thought that you two could beat us, Namek?" Kadrin said, smirking.  "You and that fool Kakarot honestly thought you could defeat the most powerful warriors in the universe?  You're pathetic."  The hybrid's face lit up slightly as he pressed his attack, causing Piccolo to stifle another cry as he was pushed back.  "Even though you _somehow_ managed to take care of Morodath, I am not so easily dispatched, as you found out."

            Piccolo risked a glance at the hybrid he had knocked out.  The dusky-colored alien looked as if he would be permanently out of the fight, but he knew better than to make such assumptions.  He had made that error once before while fighting Frieza on the planet Namek, and it had nearly cost him his life.  Then again, Goku did not look like he would be re-entering the battle in the near future either.  _Wake up!_ he thought again, ignoring the blood that ran freely down his forearms.  At least he could hope that Morodath would never awaken.

            "Namek lizard," Kadrin hissed.  Piccolo winced at the menacing tone; not even Frieza, as sadistic as he was, had taken such a liking to tormenting his opponents the way the hybrids had.  His wrists and forearms began to throb again as he scuttled away from Kadrin, drawing new blood as he tore his arms away from the sword.  His regenerative system would be able to patch up the damage, but it would take more time than he currently had.  And he dared not lower his guard to remove the nearly-useless limbs and regenerate them, not while Kadrin was standing before him.

            Standing before him?

            Piccolo blinked once and glared up at the genetically-created man.  He hadn't even seen him move that time!  His eyes widened slightly as Kadrin poised to swing the sword at him again.  _Not this time, you don't!_ he thought, gritting his teeth as if to show he was holding his ground.  The hybrid smirked as the sword came down and was somewhat braced for the impact, rigid steel against soft flesh, but Piccolo leapt backwards and avoided the stroke.  Barely.

            "You're slowing, Namek," Kadrin said mockingly.  "I won't even need weapons to press my advantage any more."  To emphasize his declaration, he tossed his sword behind him.  Then he charged towards the seemingly spent Namek, ready to strike.

            The hybrid received his second surprise for the day.

            As he lashed out at Piccolo's face, the battle-wise warrior shot up into the air and twisted his body around like a dancer, pulling his leg up and around in a roundhouse kick.  Kadrin hadn't actually counted on a defensive maneuver like that, and he took the blow in his face, shattering the Scouter.  He staggered back, slightly stunned, before bellowing with rage and flying at the Namek again.  This time Piccolo had had the opportunity to charge up an attack, the same one Nail had used on Frieza…the hybrid was forced to swerve awkwardly to the right to avoid the sudden burst of _ki_.

            "Damn him," Kadrin growled to himself.  He glanced up at the Namek and was inwardly pleased.  As he had expected, the attack had taken a lot out of him.  He stopped not far from where Piccolo stood and laughed.  The green man looked as if he was about ready to fall over, the shadows under his eyes and cheekbones emphasized by the light.  "Namek," he said, "you can't beat me now.  That one took more out of you than you thought, didn't it?"

            Piccolo said nothing, curling his upper lip in disgust and baring his fangs.  He knew that what Kadrin had said was true.  He had put a lot into that attack, and it hadn't even grazed the hybrid's skin.  He was exhausted.  All he had done was buy a bit of time for Goku to recover.  He swiped his hand across his eyes, wiping the sweat off his face.  "Bring it on, freak," he growled as he settled back into a defensive fighting stance, a determined glare etched onto his face.

* * * * *

Yeah, yeah.  It's a terrible place to end the chapter, but what can I say?  And the next chapter is already typed up and almost ready to go.  Feel free to let me know what you thought about this chapter, and hope to see you for the next one.

~Dreamwraith


	12. Chapter Twelve

Back again, with another chapter to satisfy your curiosity.  Ah, who am I kidding?  This one is for my few reviewers.  You know who you are – especially the certain someone who never _did_ follow through with their threat.  And I'm glad that you all like how I'm writing this.  It was such fun typing this chapter up!

This chapter is part of the fight scene…that's your warning.

**Disclaimer:** The day I own DBZ will be the day that the Saiyans aren't the ones coming to the rescue.  Obviously this never happens, so forget about it.

**Chapter Twelve**

            Kadrin again gave his chilling laugh as he saw how heavily Piccolo was breathing.  "I already told you, Namek, that your strength is failing.  You're not even a match for me any more.  You'll falter sooner or later, and that will be your end."  Then the man disappeared, only to reappear inches from Piccolo's face.  The startled Namek was unable to block the blow to his face, and like Nail had done so long ago, he fell over and clutched at his face.  He did not cry out this time, though…he had done so only once this fight, and he was determined not to give the hybrid the satisfaction of hearing him scream.  He managed to roll out of the way to avoid a kick that would have sent him into the next mountain range over.

            Piccolo got to his feet quickly enough, only to be knocked right back down by a hard blow to his ribs.  He felt something crack, and the air was forced out of his lungs.  He moved quickly enough to avoid a _ki-_powered kick that would have driven him into the ground, launching himself into the air with his hands and feet.  Kadrin followed him up and threw his body into the Namek, his greater mass knocking him to the ground.  Piccolo felt his right shoulder pop out of its socket under the force of the impact.  He grimaced and tried pushing himself up off the ground, but he wasn't able to stand fast enough to avoid Kadrin's next series of attacks.

            When the hybrid stopped a few minutes later to observe the damage he had inflicted, Piccolo fell heavily to the ground.  _Damn,_ he cursed silently; both of his eyes were beginning to swell up, and he could barely see.  _Come on, Goku, come to one of your famous rescues.  Any time now would be good._  He unsuccessfully tried to pick himself back up, grunting as he reconnected with the ground.

            "I told you that you were not as tough as you thought you were.  And when I am finished with you, your little friend over there is next."  Kadrin glared down at Piccolo and held both hands out in front of him, charging up a _ki_ blast that would be sure to obliterate both Piccolo and half of the surrounding landscape.  "You should have joined us when I gave you the chance, evil Namek-spawn," he said coldly.

            The disoriented warrior felt his stomach sink.  This blast would finish him for sure, and he had no way of deflecting it.  He tried moving his arms in a futile attempt to crawl out of the way, but his muscles had quit responding a long time ago.  As Piccolo tried to reconcile his fate, he finally noticed how badly injured he was.  It felt as if his body was on fire, and he couldn't even lift his head to see the full extent of his injuries.  Any second now he was expecting the familiar, searing heat of a strong _ki_ attack, awaiting the agony of flesh melting away from bone.  "I would never…join you, freak," he growled, defiant to the last.  "I'd rather die…than team up with…trash like you."

            "That can be arranged," the hybrid said coldly.  "Perhaps I can bring you with me in pieces.  You never know…I've never tasted Namek before.  Ah, well, it was fun while it lasted.  Farewell."  Kadrin aimed the _ki_ ball directly at Piccolo, and then he loosed the stored energy.  And he watched in astonishment as it shot away from its intended target, stopped by another _ki_ ball.  "What the – "  The hybrid was unable to finish his sentence when a fist connected with his mouth and knocked him away from the prone Namek.  He caught himself before he went very far and landed in a crouch, rubbing his jaw.  "You'll pay for that, Kakarot," he growled, glaring up at the supposedly unconscious fighter.

            "It…took you long…enough, Goku," Piccolo panted, turning his head towards the equally exhausted Saiyan.  "All afternoon."  An interesting feeling, it was, staring Death in the eye and watching it blink.  He never did get used to the sensation, as unnerving as it was to even the most experienced of warriors, but now was not the time for such thoughts.  Piccolo knew the fight was not over, not until Kadrin was dead and gone.

            The man spared a glance at his fighting partner, his own chest heaving from his mighty blow.  "What happened to _you_?" Goku asked, horrified.  His ally looked as though he had gotten into a fight with a cuisinart!

            "I was holding down the – urgh!"  The green man grunted as he was kicked away by Kadrin, who had sufficiently recovered from Goku's attack to counter with one of his own.  He rolled about ten paces away, curling defensively and holding his stomach.

            "That one has yet to scream, Kakarot," Kadrin said casually, ignoring the look of anger on Goku's face as he swiped one arm across his forehead.  "A tough one, the Namek is.  If I didn't know any better, I would say he was more than a Namek."  At this, Piccolo had to chuckle silently.  _If only he knew, _he thought.  _Perhaps he would be quicker in getting rid of me._

            "I'll tell you what, Kakarot," he continued.  "As pathetic as you are, and as much as you deserve death, I will let you live.  You're a decent fighter, I'll give you that much credit.  In a few years you might even be able to fight at my level.  I'll come back for you then, to settle this little score.  All you have to do is kill the Namek.  He's nothing but a waste."  The hybrid laughed as he watched the look on Goku's face change from anger to pure rage.  He seemed not to know how dangerous of a situation he had entered, and he continued laughing as Goku's _ki_ spiked dramatically.  He barely even registered the instant when Goku ascended into his Super Saiyan form.

            Until Goku elbowed him in the ribs, knocking him back.

            Piccolo was astonished at the abrupt transformation Goku had undergone.  _So this is what a Super Saiyan is,_ he thought as he watched the Saiyan pull his arm back for another punch.  Goku's now-golden hair had taken on a gravity-defying position, and his green eyes blazed with anger.  He would have resembled an angel were it not for his apparent rage and his wounds.  The strike was true, and Kadrin went tumbling head-over-heels into one of the columns of rock.  The force of the blow was enough to push him through the other side.

            The full-blooded Saiyan hovered a handspan above the ground.  His _ki_ crackled around him; the rage in his eyes spelled death to the man who had dared to suggest he kill his ally and (dare he think it) friend.  Something had changed in their "relationship" in the year between the fight with Vegeta and the fight with Frieza; he didn't realize it at first, but Piccolo hadn't seemed as hell-bent on killing him as he was before.  The battle on Namek confirmed it.  Piccolo wasn't so much an enemy as a rival, and perhaps even a friend…though he would rather die before admitting it to anyone.  Goku watched as Kadrin pulled himself from the rubble.  He gave him little chance to recoup, flying in as soon as he could see his face.

            Goku was able to get in a few hits before Kadrin reached out and caught his extended arm mid-swing.  "Come now," the hybrid spat as he swiped at a trickle of blood coming from his nose.  "Do you really think we were not prepared to fight other warriors of this caliber?"  Then, before Goku's astonished eyes, the hybrid began to fight back, and on equal ground.  It was all he could do to avoid his _ki_-charged blows, and he was rapidly put on the defensive.

            Piccolo's eyes widened.  _How can this possibly be?  The lab mutt is beating the strongest of the universe's most feared warrior race!_  He growled as he watched Goku drop to his hands and sweep Kadrin's feet out from under him.  The hybrid recovered swiftly and flew in low to the ground, head-butting his opponent.  _There is no way that Goku can keep this up for much longer.  He's in terrible shape, and that form he's holding is taking too much out of him.  He doesn't stand a chance._

            Piccolo forced himself up to his hands and knees as Goku dropped out of his Super Saiyan form.  With a considerable effort he pushed himself into a half-crouching, half-kneeling position.  He then winced as he stood up, hunching over to ease the pain in his abdomen.  He took a few seconds to catch his breath.

            Kadrin glanced over and spotted Piccolo as he stood.  "Well, Kakarot," he said, "it looks like the green man still wants to play.  Which one of us should finish him off?"

            "Leave him out of this, Kadrin!" Goku yelled as he flew at the other warrior, his right foot leading.  The hybrid nimbly dodged the kick.  "Your fight is with me!"

            "So it is," the other man retorted as he returned the kick with one of his own, nailing Goku in the gut and sending him sprawling.  "You should still consider my offer, traitor."

            "Does he make such offers to everything he fights?" Piccolo wondered, squinting as the two men kicked up a cloud of dust in his direction.

            It would have been obvious to any observer that Goku was fighting a losing battle.  Piccolo could see that, and he knew he had to do something.  "How did I get myself drawn into this?" he panted harshly.  _There's no way Goku can defeat him now.  He didn't have enough time to regain his strength after stasis, and he doesn't stand a chance._  "Feh.  Leave it to the one who was supposed to destroy him to save his hide."  Piccolo straightened up completely, sharply catching his breath as his right shoulder shifted.  The arm was all but useless, he decided, but he could deal with that later.  He then raised the first two fingers of his left hand up to his forehead and began charging his signature _ki_ attack.

            Goku winced as he felt the skin on his back abrade as he skidded along the ground, hearing the cloth of his gi shredding against the rocks.  He reached his hands behind his head and used his momentum to flip himself back over.  The Saiyan then dug his heels into the earth and launched himself forward again, hoping to catch Kadrin unaware.  His plan backfired, however, when the hybrid appeared above him and elbowed him in the back and knocked him to the ground.

            "This is your last chance, Kakarot," Kadrin hissed as he landed, watching as the Saiyan stood up slowly.  "Dispose of the Namek, and I will let you go free."

            Goku simply smirked at him.  "My name is no longer Kakarot," he declared defiantly.  "I am Son Goku, and my place is here, on Earth.  I don't deal with men who make offers to save their own hides, and I will not kill anyone on this planet because of the likes of _you_."  The man dropped into a defensive stance, even though he was fatigued enough to visibly tremble.

            "Fine," Kadrin said with a sneer.  "Have it your way.  _You_ will be the first to die, then," he added coldly.  He started to concentrate his _ki_ into his hands when an unexpected voice spoke up from directly behind him.  The menacing tone was enough to send a slight chill down his spine, though he ignored it.

            "I don't think so, _hybrid_," Piccolo growled.  "On this planet, we stand by our allies, our friends.  If you take on one of us, you fight us all."

            _Friends?_  Goku felt his jaw drop and quickly closed his mouth.  _Friends?  He's calling us his _friends_?  Is he serious?_

            "Is that so, Namek?" Kadrin spat, turning his attention to Piccolo and noting with some interest that two of the fingers on his left hand were sparking with _ki_.  "What do _you _plan on doing about it?"  Surely this attack is nothing, he mused.  Is he going to spark me to death?  The Namek is spent…he's bluffing.  He's just trying to buy himself some time.

            "This."  Goku caught the quick flash of movement as Piccolo raised his left hand again to his forehead and leapt out of the way.  "_Makkankosappo!_" he roared as he pointed his hand at the hybrid.  Then he forced the gathered _ki_ out of his fingertips and into Kadrin.  The hybrid realized too late that he would not be able to stop or avoid the attack.  It was at point-blank range, and there was nowhere to run.  His eyes widened in fear; he had greatly underestimated the Namek, and he would pay dearly for his mistake.  There was some resistance as the beam collided with his hastily-constructed _ki_ shield, but it quickly crumbled under the sheer force of the attack.

            Goku watched in horror as the spiraling _ki_ drilled through the body of the hybrid.  He had seen the attack enough to know that the _ki_ shouldn't have been that particular shade of red.  Even more startling was the complete lack of emotion on Piccolo's face.  Sure, he reasoned, Piccolo always hid his feelings, but not like this.  Not in this kind of situation.  He should at least be smirking, or frowning, or something!  It was almost as if something had snapped deep inside the Namek, like it had when Goku had broken through the barrier and become a Super Saiyan.

            For his part, Piccolo realized he had sustained the _ki_ blast longer than he had meant to, drawing all of his remaining _ki_ into the attack.  In fact, he had held onto the blast longer than he ever had before, and he kept channeling more _ki_ from only Kami-knows-where into it until he felt Goku's hand on his shoulder.

            "Piccolo," the Saiyan said softly, "he's gone.  Kadrin is dead.  You can stop now."

            The green man released his blast and whirled upon Goku, who jumped slightly at the movement.  "Do not tell me what to do," he hissed.  "I can take care…of…myself…"  Piccolo's voice trailed off slowly as he began to sway on his feet.  Before Goku could move a muscle, his eyes rolled back in his head and his knees buckled, pitching him forward into the charred earth where the Saiyan hybrid had stood only moments before.  He had finally succumbed to unconsciousness, and Goku was left standing above him, at a loss for what to do.

            The man scratched the side of his head in confusion.  "Great," he said to himself.  "_Now_ what am I supposed to do?"  He took one long look at his Namekian ally and shrugged helplessly.  "I have to get him some help, but there's almost no way I can get him out of here.  _He_ was supposed to be the one to do that – I can't call Tien and Gohan."  Goku ceased his mumbling as he knelt down next to Piccolo and checked for a pulse.  "At least he's still alive.  I can't put him on the Flying Nimbus, I can't fly him out of here myself, I can't call for help or leave him here to get someone, and he sure isn't going to be much help!"

            Goku rocked back on his heels and rested his chin in one hand.  "There has to be something I can do – _yeowch!_"  He yelped as the abrasions on his back burned with the sudden movement.  Then the light bulb went on inside his head.  "I've got it!" he exclaimed, snapping his fingers.  He jumped up in excitement and promptly yelped again.  He was in no condition to be leaping about like a mad scientist who has just created life in an inanimate object – and he used that to his advantage.

            "They must have been keeping up with the battle by tracking our _ki_, and they must have sensed what happened with Piccolo.  If they think _both_ of us are down…"  Goku didn't need to finish his statement.  With a yell he began to charge his _ki_ as much and as quickly as he could.  The air was soon filled with lancing, crackling _ki_ and several handfuls of rock, all of which danced around the Saiyan.  Just as suddenly as he had gathered it, though, he let it go…as a _Kamehameha_ wave, aimed at the hybrids' space ship.  The metal construct was not built to withstand such assault, and it was disintegrated in seconds.  Then again, Goku was in no condition to handle a large amount of _ki_, either.

            "Good," Goku panted, exhausted.  "Now…they'll come…for us…"  Then he, too, collapsed.

            The remainder of the Earth's defenders were seated uneasily at the Son's table – who could relax with such a battle raging mere miles away? – eating dinner, when the enormous fluctuation in _ki _registered in their minds.  Gohan's eyes widened as he felt his father's _ki_ spike drastically before dropping down to an almost imperceptible level.  "Oh… something's happened to my dad!" he shouted, leaping into the air and upsetting the dinner table.

            "Gohan, what are you doing?" Chi-Chi exclaimed, leaping to her feet.  "What's going on?"

            Krillin grabbed the boy's leg as he began to fly for the window and forcibly pulled him back.  "Gohan, don't go out there!  You told me they'd call for you if they needed help!"

            Gohan ignored the stern look on his sparring partner's face.  "Krillin, what if that _was_ the call?  What if Piccolo wasn't able to call Tien?"  He glanced over at the triclops, who was now frowning.  "Krillin, I can't just leave him out there!  Something must have happened, and he needs us!"

            The man exchanged a helpless glance with Tien.  Then he released Gohan's leg and dropped his head to the table with an audible _thunk_.  "Go on, kid, and hurry back.  We'll be watching for you."  The boy flew out the window silently, causing his mother to roll her eyes.

            Tien stood up as well.  "I'm going with him.  I won't be getting in the way.  No offense to you guys, of course," he added, nodding to Yamcha, Chiaotzu, and Krillin.  Then he turned around and followed Gohan out the window.

            Yamcha watched as both warriors sped away through the night, their _ki_ trails bright against the darkening sky.  He sighed when they passed out of his range of vision and returned to drinking his tea.  _I hope they find both Goku and Piccolo in one piece,_ he thought._  And I hope, for their sakes, that whatever was out there with those two is no longer alive.  Neither of them would stand a chance against something that could fell a Saiyan and a demon._

* * * * *

Ahh, another chapter done, and I have no idea how many more to go.  It is such fun typing this up.  I appreciate your time.

This is not the end of the story…it is merely the calm before the storm.

~Dreamwraith


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Once again, I apologize for disappearing for a bit.  I stumbled upon writer's block and only recently worked through it.  Sorry for the delay.

Thank you, readers and reviewers, for your encouragement.  I'm glad you think I write a decent fight sequence – that battle wasn't all.  Well, on with the story.  Like I said before, this is the calm before the storm.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own DBZ.

**Chapter Thirteen**

            Darkness.

            A roiling sea of black, a dull roar.

            A low murmur, an unrecognizable language.

            Then a flash of light, followed by swirling colors and an unspoken curse.

            Piccolo opened his eyes slowly and was greeted by the morning sun.  The light shined in through a window into his eyes (_What a way to wake up,_ he grumbled to himself), and with a thought he half-closed the shade over it.  "A bit better," he mumbled.  He had been lifting pyramids with his mind since he started training Gohan…how troublesome could a single shade be?

            His sharp mind registered his surroundings before his pain.  He could feel a bed, or something similar to one, beneath him.  He was in a room somewhere, with pastel-toned walls and a fresh breeze blowing in through the window.  The air tasted a bit salty, he realized as he moistened his cracked lips.  The Namek could dimly sense Goku's _ki_, as if he was trying to see a lighted match through a dense fog.  _Hell, I'd recognize that _ki_ anywhere.  I've spent most of my life attuned to it, since I was born.  Goku's _ki_ is about as familiar to me as Kami's,_ he added sourly.

            Piccolo did not recognize the room, though, and that bothered him.  He took pride in his memory, which went back to long before his birth and was unreliable only before his sire was cast from the original Namek.  It was not good, this memory lapse, so he thought about the recent fight in hopes of stimulating his mind – he needed to find out where he was.

            The last thing he could remember was attacking Kadrin point-blank with a _Makkankosappo_.

            He had charged the attack to the point of it nearly exploding into himself as well, such was the power he had put into it.  He saw the look of horror on Kadrin's face as the hybrid realized he couldn't hope to block the beam of _ki_.  He had thrown up a shield in the hopes of stopping a fatal blow.

            And he would have, too.

            Piccolo knew not how, but the hybrid had managed to hold back his _ki_ beam.  _No!  It can't be!  It can't!  _He wouldn't be able to hold onto the _Makkankosappo_ for much longer, but the hybrid was still too strong!  He would eventually deflect the attack and kill him, then he would go for Goku, and he would eventually find Gohan and the others.  He mentally cursed.  He had to gather more _ki_, and fast.  But where would he get it from?  He had no more reserves, did he?  As the realization that he would not die crept into Kadrin's eyes, Piccolo cursed again.  The hybrid would be preparing his own counter-attack soon, and he would be dead.  _Why…won't…he…just…die?_ the Namek screamed to himself.

            Then he found what he was looking for…untapped _ki_.  How he didn't see it before he did not know, but Piccolo wasn't about to pass it up.  He reached into the hidden reserve and pulled forth a tremendous amount of _ki_.  It surged through his body, burning through every nerve, every sinew, with its power.  His normally golden-red _ki_ attack changed colors to a deeper shade of red as something inside him snapped, and the newfound _ki_ washed over Kadrin, killing him almost instantly.

            He didn't stop there.  Oh, no.  He simply couldn't.  This power, this new strength he had found, was his and only his.  He announced it to the world, allowing the _ki_ to rampage through his body, feeling the burn of the power and relishing every moment of it, even as it blistered his hands and singed the front of his body.  It was his and his alone, and no one could take it from him!

            All this happened in the span of five seconds, a few heartbeats.  But a heartbeat can last a lifetime, and it did in that instant for Piccolo.  In that instant he was the most powerful being on the planet.  Then Goku touched his shoulder, and he was jolted out of his reverie.

            "Piccolo, he's gone," came the simple announcement.  "Kadrin is dead."

            With that declaration, the _ki_ shriveled up inside him.  _No,_ he wailed as the energy left him, feeling its loss as keenly as if it had been his heart, his soul.  _No,_ he cried to himself as the searing heat dissipated, leaving him cold and empty, shivering.  The loss of his strength nearly broke him there, had not Goku told him he could stop.  His instincts kicked in, and he concentrated on resisting the other man once again, ignoring the sharp ache in the center of his body from the _ki_.  That was what he remembered, and at that point he had presumably lost consciousness.  Thinking about it now, Goku probably saved his life.  The strain on his body would have killed him had he not stopped.

            What a horrendous feeling, being indebted to the man you were supposed to kill.

            _Damn,_ he growled to himself as he shifted his eyes from the far wall to the door.  His concentration went back to his current predicament.  _Did Morodath survive and make good on his brother's offer?  Did they defeat us after all?_  He clenched his fists in silent anger and tried to feel for other _ki_ signatures.

            It was to no avail.  Piccolo had suspected as much; he wasn't able to sense anything other than Goku and a faint glimmer that might have been Gohan.  He couldn't be sure, even though he had sparred with the kid for the last year and had trained him before that.  He growled under his breath, knowing that something had to be done – or he might not live to see another day, depending on the outcome of the colossal battle.

            After a few seconds he decided it would be best to reach out to Gohan through their mental link, the bonds forged from the love of a child and the willingness to forgive.  _Gohan, can you hear me?_ he asked, stretching out with a tendril of power to make sure he was heard.

            No sooner than he spoke did the backlash hit him.  The pain from trying to speak mind-to-mind was nearly as terrible as that caused by the disruptor of the crystal ball.  Piccolo grimaced and inhaled sharply.  "What…the hell," he breathed as the sensation subsided.  There had to be some reason for what had just happened to him.  Was that, perhaps, the effect of the psi-down the hybrids had used?

            Well, no matter what the current situation was, he _had_ to find out what had happened, for better or for worse.  In the best-case scenario, the person he wanted to speak with would hear him.  In the worst-case scenario, it would be Morodath.  "Goku?" he called, hoping against hope that his former enemy would hear him.

            After a few seconds, his sensitive hearing picked up the sound of footsteps on stairs, headed in his direction.  They did not sound like the heavy footsteps of an adult, but they weren't light, either.  Piccolo tensed his body, preparing to fight if need be but knowing he wouldn't be able to win if it came down to that.  Then the person (or thing) was at the door, its hand on the knob and turning it quickly.  The Namek glanced over at the doorway, watching as the door swung open and a small figure became visible on its threshold.

            "Piccolo!" the figure shouted.  "You're awake!"

            _Gohan_, he thought, relieved.  He did not let his relief show through on his face, though, and he scowled as the boy began to dance in the doorway.  Gohan continued on in this manner for a few more seconds before he raced out of sight.  His footsteps betrayed his path as he pounded down the stairs like any normal human child.  Piccolo sighed and looked back up at the ceiling before closing his eyes.

            Though he could not place it, he had the distinct feeling that something was wrong.

_Hell_

            "It seems that your heir survived, Daimao," the Seer said idly.  "For a moment, the situation looked grim."

            "He was weaker than I expected," the elder demon growled.  "He needed aid."

            "But Ma Junior still won," the other demon argued.  "Son Goku was not able to rise to the challenge.  Your son did.  He may have defeated the stronger hybrid even without the _ki_ boost."

            Daimao drummed his fingers impatiently on his seat, the flattest rock in the cavern.  It was one he had torn from the ceiling in his earlier fit of rage.  That rage was spent, for now, but the demon lord was not known for his patience, and that anger could be rekindled at a moment's notice.

            "You said once that Kami and the other defenders of the Earth would be pulverized if Son Goku did not return.  From what we have seen, he may not have been needed at all.  One of the others, perhaps the assassin or his own whelp, would have sufficed.  Or the arrogant Saiyan prince.  The point is that Ma Junior prevented it.  Perhaps there is more to him than you expected."  The Seer glanced sideways at Daimao, recalling what the demon lord had so nearly done to it the last time it had said something not to his liking.

            The demon did not go off in a fit of rage this time.  "Perhaps there is, Seer.  Ma Junior has always been the interesting one.  Piano advised me, Tambourine had brains, Drum had raw strength, and Cymbal was a combination.  Ma Junior – Piccolo – wields _ki_ better than any of my other children, and he has always been more ambitious than his siblings.  He does not top me in strength, this young demon, but soon…soon, he may.  His other heritage might be growing on him."  Daimao sighed, resigned.  "I'll have to do something about it."

            The Seer felt its mouth drop open and closed it hastily.  Piccolo Daimao had actually referred to his youngest son by the name he had chosen?  It was a first, at least in its presence.  "Did you wish to speak with the scout now, Demon Lord?" it asked.

            "The scout is your student, correct?"

            The other demon nodded.

            "Then bring him in."  Daimao loosely folded his arms across his chest, his biceps rippling with the movement.  He watched impassively as the weaker demon called for its protégé.  He curled his lips back in a sneer when a rather puny-looking creature appeared before the Seer and bowed.  The small demon – if that was what it actually was – had smooth black skin, unmarred by scars or other marks.  Two large, leathery wings protruded from its back, and its fingers ended in wickedly curved claws.  Two red, glowing eyes shone clearly in the darkness, but to his surprise, little else of this demon was visible.  It seemed to be surrounded by some sort of black mist.

            Daimao snarled.  "What manner of demon are you?" he demanded, his _ki_ beginning to rise.

            The smaller demon turned to the irate demon lord and gave him a large, toothy grin.  "I am Ssshadow, demon lord, and I wasss made to hide in the darknesss."  He swept his wings out from underneath him and sat down, crossing his legs.  "What quesstionsss do you have for me?"

            "You can start by telling me why you interfered.  Your orders were to not act unless I commanded you to," Daimao said angrily, unfolding his arms.

            "I believed the ssituation to be sseriousss, lord," the being called Shadow replied.  "I did not desssire my asssignment to be mutilated.  Bessidesss, it will be eassier now to convert."

            "And why can't we see you, Shadow?" he asked.

            The demon looked helplessly at the Seer, who cleared its throat and spoke up.  "I may answer this, Daimao," it said.  "Shadow's specialties are _ki_ absorption, subtle conversion, and limited shape-changing.  This is why I chose him to be my eyes and ears on the planet Earth…he can hide nearly anywhere there is darkness, hence the mist around him.  It is a form of camouflage.  He can travel unseen to any place on the planet, even to the Lookout if I so desired.  He is perfect, and he is our link to Ma Junior."

            Piccolo Daimao rolled his eyes.  "Then why is he down here still?  Send him back up!" he snapped, throwing his arms into the air.  "He's of no use to me while he sits on your floor!"

            "You said you needed to speak with him," the Seer protested weakly.

            "To hell with that.  I need his eyes and ears now more than I need you."  Under the force of Daimao's glare, the Seer quailed and began the intricate motions that would send Shadow to the plane of the humans.  Its hands moved faster and faster, their dance becoming more and more difficult to capture until they were no more than a blur in the air.  Then it stopped suddenly and snapped its fingers, and the third demon was gone, a puff of smoke the only evidence it had once sat in the cavern.

            "We haven't much time," Daimao mumbled to himself after the teleportation spell was completed.  He turned his back to the panting demon and began drumming the fingers of his left hand along his right arm.  "I must act within the next twelve weeks, at most.  With all the chaos in the upper realm, we will have the upper hand, for there will be no one to stop us.  By then we must be ready to move."

            Then his lips pulled back into a cruel smile.  "And then I will rejoin my son."

* * * * *

Thanks once again for reading, though I do have a question for you.  Would anyone possibly know what the other name for the Lookout is?  I'm thinking "Tenka", but I'm not positive.  Please let me know if you do know what it is.

~Dreamwraith


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Back yet again, with another chapter for you to read and enjoy.  And now, without further ado, the fourteenth chapter.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own DBZ.

**Chapter Fourteen**

            Gohan raced excitedly out the door, nearly tripping over the frame and Oolong in the process.  "Dad!  Dad-dad-dad-dad!" he shouted as he leapt off the porch, racing across the sand and leaving footprints behind him.  "He's awake!  Piccolo's awake!"  He veered off to the right, running around the side of the house to the trees his father relaxed under.

            Goku was lounging on a lawn chair by the side of the Kame House when Gohan rounded the corner.  "Dad!  Piccolo's awake now!"  In his excitement, the boy stopped just short of bowling over the other Saiyan.  Needless to say, Goku still had to extend his hand to steady him.

            "He _is_?"  The Saiyan leapt off the chair and promptly yelped.  He was still in the process of healing, no doubt about it.  His arms and legs were still sore from the battle, even though it had been several days ago.  "That's great!  I need to talk to him.  Go tell Tien and all them, would you?" he asked.  "I'm sure they'll want to hear how our _friend_ is doing.  I'll be there in a minute."

            Friend.  Goku smiled broadly as he recalled Piccolo's use of the word four days before.  _On this planet, we stand by our allies, our friends.  If you take on one of us, you fight us all_, he had said.  Goku was fairly certain he would never again hear that word coming from the Namek's mouth, so he would have to remember it and savor the moment.  He would never let him live it down.

            Gohan must have worked very quickly, Goku decided, as he felt the _ki_ of his friends move into the Kame House group by group: Tien and Chiaotzu, Yamcha and Pu'ar, Bulma and Gohan.  Krillin was already up the stairs.  Master Roshi was reading his magazines in the sand.  Chi-Chi was walking towards him.  And Oolong was attempting to cook lunch.  He wanted nothing to do with Piccolo, which was quite understandable – he was under one-fourth of the Namek's height, and scared stiff of him.

            The small island was so full of _ki_ that it would have acted like a beacon to anything in Earth's atmosphere.

            After a minute, Chi-Chi appeared around the side of the house to help him walk.  She seemed to be very upset about something or other, and Goku had a feeling he knew what it was.  Still, he had to ask her.  It was only polite.  "What's wrong, Chi-Chi?" he asked.  "What's bothering you?  Didn't Bulma help you with the dishes yesterday night?"  Of course, he knew that wasn't the reason.  It was simply better to let her think that he thought it was.

            "No, that's not it, Goku," Chi-Chi said, blinking as she took some of his weight.  "I don't want Gohan spending all of his time with Piccolo."  She spat the Namek's name out of her mouth as if it was venomous, and Goku did not miss it.  "He's been influenced too much by that demonic alien, and I'm sick of it.  Our Gohan has homework to do, for Kami's sake, and I _know_ that he's not going to do it.  He'll think of some excuse to stay with that murdering criminal upstairs and – "

            "Chi-Chi, that's enough," Goku interrupted gently.  "I know you don't like him, and I know you don't like having to spend time anywhere near him.  I'm sorry, and I'm sorry that I'm not strong enough to get us home yet, too."  He looked down at his wife, who seemed ready to either go off in a fit of rage or break down into tears.  "Well, I want to know how he's doing, and I _do_ need to talk with him, so if you want, you can just leave me in the doorway.  I'll make it into the room myself."

            Chi-Chi looked up at him and gave him a small smile.  "Thank you, Goku dear," she said.

            Piccolo was not amused to see so many people parading into the room.  He'd long since been ready for them – he had sensed their _ki_ as they came up the steps and had pushed himself up, so he looked as if he was reclining instead of lying back on the bed.  The movement caused a ripple of pain in his body, but he didn't have time to do anything about it before Krillin walked in the door.  "How are you feeling, Piccolo?" the midget asked, slinging himself into a chair at the foot of the bed that, until now, Piccolo had not noticed.

            Piccolo rewarded him with a glare.

            Yamcha and Pu'ar walked in the room in time to hear Krillin chuckle.  "I guess that means better, huh?" he asked with an amused smile on his face.  "Still hurts?"

            "Didn't I tell you to stop asking ridiculous questions?" Piccolo growled.

            "Yeah," Krillin snorted in response.  "Weeks ago."

            "It still holds, human."

            Bulma came in then with her notebook, followed by a harried-looking Chiaotzu and a smirking Tien, both of whom settled themselves into one corner of the room.  Apparently she had been conducting more research on psychic phenomenon, and Chiaotzu had once again been her subject.  Why she hadn't picked him, Piccolo had no idea.  It was probably his magnetic personality.  _Right,_ Piccolo snorted to himself.  _And I'm an angel, too._

            "Piccolo," she said matter-of-factly, dropping herself down at the foot of the bed and in front of Krillin, "I need you to tell me all about that psi-down mixture Goku keeps telling us about.  He's not suffering any effects from it, so I can't ask him.  That leaves you.  So spill."  Bulma leaned over her notebook, pencil poised and ready to write.

            "Get away from me, idiot woman, before I decide to kill you all," Piccolo snapped.  "I am not your guinea pig, and I do not want to deal with a mob in this room while I am recovering."  He shifted his body as if he was about to leap at her, and the scientist jumped off the bed with a yip.  He had to stifle a yelp himself – the stretching of muscles already strained is never pleasant.  Bulma scurried over to Yamcha and buried herself under his arm.

            "Glad you're awake anyway, Piccolo," Krillin said, cupping his chin in his hand.

            "You and Goku were nearly dead by the time Gohan and I got there," Tien added in his gruff tone of voice.  "This was the first place we were able to take you, the Kame House."  Unspoken between them was the reason for not stopping at the Son residence: Chi-Chi.  She never would have stood for having the demon in her house, and everyone knew it.

            "We thought you'd never wake up, Piccolo," Yamcha added as well.

            By this time, the Namek hadn't the faintest idea of what he should make of this.  It was only with the greatest amount of self-control that he did not allow the look of confusion to cross his face.  He was not used to having people worrying about him; he had lived alone his entire life, and that was the way he liked it.  This was strange to him.  Was this what friendship really was?  Well, they were either all playing him for a fool, or they really did care about his physical condition.  How very odd it was.

            "Why would you care?" Piccolo growled.

            "Um, because you've been out for nearly four days?" Krillin ventured cautiously.  "You nearly died, you know."

            The Namek did not need words to express his shock; the look that crossed his face more than adequately handled that.  _Four days?_ he thought incredulously.  _I can see two, or even three.  But four?  It must have been worse than I thought for _this_ to happen.  Feh.  Kami is probably worried about his health._

            "You probably wouldn't have lasted the night if Tien and Gohan didn't bring you here," Krillin continued.  "You really overtaxed your strength, Piccolo, and a bit more.  You were really bad."  The monk winced in what appeared to be sympathy.

            Piccolo closed his eyes briefly against a spell of dizziness.  _This is wonderful,_ he thought sarcastically.  _Why am I becoming dizzy?  True, I overtaxed myself, but there's more to it than that.  I can feel it.  What could possibly be happening now?  There is definitely something wrong with me._  He opened his eyes again and sighed softly.

            Goku picked that exact moment to walk in the door, with Gohan trailing him closely.  "Hi, Piccolo," Goku said, smiling.  "Oh ally and friend of mine."

            The Namek's jaw would have figuratively hit the ground had he been standing.  As it was, his eyes widened perceptibly in disbelief that the man had actually remembered part of that confounded statement.  Snickers erupted around the room; Piccolo's reputation still ensured that he would never be outright laughed at.  He was, after all, a demon, and demons were not known for their tolerance of mockery.  Even now they were pushing it, and they knew it.  They simply did not care.

            "Hey, Piccolo," Gohan said, "I heard you call me.  I'm glad you're awake again."

            The Namek was about to give the boy his customary smirk when he caught a glimpse of movement from the doorway.  Chi-Chi, his _ki_ senses told him.  He quickly screwed his face into a frown.  That woman always managed to ruin his day, no matter what.  She had a grudge against him, all right, and knowing her it would last until one of them died.

            And for the record, she was frowning, too.

            Piccolo scowled as Goku began to speak again.  "You do look a lot better now than you did when Tien brought you in here," he said.  "You should've seen yourself."

            "I was in here every day to see if you'd wake up!" Gohan boasted.

            Piccolo blinked once as his vision went out of focus.  _What the hell is this?_ he thought angrily.  _What is happening to me?_  Again he became dizzy, and he closed his eyes to prevent his vision from swimming.

            "Not that you would care," Chi-Chi muttered under her breath.

            Piccolo usually counted his exceptional hearing among his blessings (if he had any at all), but now he rued the fact.  He heard the woman's words as loud and as clear as if she had been standing next to him when she said them.  And they hurt.  For some strange reason, Ma Junior, the son of the Demon Lord, was pained by a simple statement.  His eyes flew open as he turned his head toward the door, where Chi-Chi was standing in the shadows.  If looks could kill, he would be dead, he mused.  Then again, the look he shot her was not kind, either.  "Why would I not?" he asked quietly.

            Son Chi-Chi jumped at the sound of his voice, unaware that she had been heard.  Well, now that she was, she could involve herself and tear her son from the demon's cold grasp.  He wouldn't be able to fight now…he was on her level, and she intended to press her advantage.  "You _never_ seem to care if he follows you or not!" she snapped, glaring at him as she took a step into the light.  "He _idolizes_ you, or haven't you noticed that either?  Gohan talks about you day in and day out, and what do you do for him?  You don't care, and don't try to deny it!"

            "I think it's about time to go downstairs, Yamcha," Bulma whispered into her boyfriend's ear.  "This is about to get ugly."  She never was one to sit around and listen to an argument that could turn physical, and this was no exception.  The warrior nodded wordlessly, and together they crept quickly past Chi-Chi.  Pu'ar followed them out.

            The woman barely registered their escape.

            Piccolo was glad that _someone_ had the brains to leave before a brawl started.  He didn't think Chi-Chi would attempt to hurt him while Gohan was around, but then again, he hadn't expected her to drag him into a pointless argument in front of him, and look where that had gotten them.  He didn't know whether he should laugh at her or take a swing at her.  The former would provoke an attack from Chi-Chi, and the latter would provoke a response from Goku.  He furrowed his brow until his eyes were mere slits, much like a cat.

            "You had the gall to not only kill my husband but steal my only child away from me!  You ruined our family life, and worse, you've destroyed Gohan's future as a scholar!  What school would accept a child who thinks violence is the solution to everything?" she raged.

            "But mom," Gohan protested weakly, "I don't think that!  Honest, I don't!"

            "None!" she continued angrily.  "You have ruined my son's future!"

            "Chi-Chi!" Goku said sharply.  "Leave him alone!"

            "No, Goku," she snapped back.  "I'm not done with him.  He has gotten away with too much, and it's time for that to end."

            _Kill her._  The thought came unbidden into Piccolo's mind, but he dismissed it quickly.  He was in no mood to have four of the six fighters on the island attack him at once, and _that_ was providing that Gohan didn't attack him and Yamcha didn't charge up the stairs.  Hell, Bulma probably even had some kind of tranquilizer on her somewhere, and he did not want to be drugged.  He looked quickly around the room and saw that everyone else was nearly as surprised by Chi-Chi's outburst as he had been.  Tien and Krillin wore identical expressions of disbelief, and Chiaotzu was frowning.  Gohan looked as if he was about to cry.  Goku was upset.

            "Do you have any idea of what you have done, Piccolo?" she demanded.

            The silence in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife.  Gohan's eyes were red and puffy from holding back his tears – the boy was caught between his mother and his beloved mentor and friend.  How could she be doing this? he wondered dimly.  It just wasn't fair.

            Piccolo turned his head back to the ceiling and smirked.  Those present saw a scorn-filled façade, confident and aloof.  Only a practiced eye would have caught the brief glimmer of pain in his eyes before he donned his invisible mask.  "I've lied, fought, enraged, hated, killed…is that enough of a list for you?" he asked bitterly.  "And taught Gohan how to fight, to protect what he believes in.  And died."

            Everyone knew how Piccolo had leapt in front of a _ki_ blast meant for Gohan during the battle with Vegeta and Nappa.  Nappa had hurled it at the young boy, meaning to kill him, but the Namek had saved him, shielding him with his own body.  All who had died because of a _ki_ ball knew how it felt: the searing heat, almost more than what the body could bear, and the chill that came when the attack was finished, colder than the biting winds of the Yunzabit Heights.  Piccolo was experienced enough to know the outcome of such an action, but he had done it anyway, without regard for his own life.  He was determined to protect the boy at all costs – and he had succeeded.

            Chi-Chi was unable to come up with a proper retort.  Instead, she stared at the Namek, the expression on her face similar to that of a deer caught in the headlights of a car.

            "Piccolo," Goku began to say.

            "No, Goku," the green man said, silencing him.  "I know why your wife has this grudge, and perhaps I deserve it.  But the reason is not meant to be heard by all."  _Because of my sire, and my actions,_ he thought._  Because of what he and I have done.  Not because I am different, a Namek, but because I am a demon.  Because I am evil incarnate._  It was only because he had practiced long and hard to keep a calm exterior that Piccolo was able to hide his wince.

            Suddenly, a familiar _ki_ appeared in the hallway, just outside the door.  Chi-Chi leapt when the owner of the _ki_ came up behind her and greeted the group as a whole.  And Piccolo suppressed a growl when that person came up next to him and frowned down at him.

            For that person was none other than Kami.

* * * * *

Well, that's Chapter Fourteen for you.  I find it strange, having come this far and seeing how everything falls together.  Interesting.  Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter.  'Til next time.

~Dreamwraith


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**Disclaimer:** I do not own DBZ.  I own this story, and any original characters and places in it.

**Chapter Fifteen**

            "What do you want?" Piccolo growled as the Guardian of the Earth glowered at him.

            "You know well what I want, Piccolo, and what I have to say," Kami said, gripping his staff tightly.  "But first, I would like to know what reason you have for picking a fight with Goku's wife."  The old Namek was perfectly aware of the stares directed at him, especially from Chi-Chi, but he paid them no heed.  This was vitally important, and he could not afford to have any distractions.

            The younger Namek scowled up at his 'father'.  "Don't get me started on it, _old man_.  Ask her yourself.  I don't have to answer to you for anything."  Kami met his gaze evenly, and both Nameks stared at each other.

            The demon and the Guardian, locked as they were in their battle of wills, failed to notice the effect they had on the rest of the room.  Goku glanced about quickly at his family and friends, also sensing Master Roshi's _ki_ entering the house.  Tien and Chiaotzu were still seated in their corner, although the emperor wore a most interesting expression on his face.  He appeared to be anticipating _something_, his posture revealed, as he leaned forward slightly, every muscle in his body tight.  Gohan was openly confused, and Chi-Chi was caught between fight and flight.  Krillin sent a furtive glance his way, his eyes questioning.

            Goku himself wondered what Piccolo had done to merit Kami's teleportation into the hallway of the Kame House.  In his experience, Kami had only teleported once, and that was to pick him up at the Check-In Station of the Afterlife, and _that_ was a major concession.  Surely it couldn't have been something Piccolo had done recently; someone would have told him if the demon-Namek had been up to something while he was gone.  And it couldn't have been something from before their battle with Frieza on Namek, because Goku could account for nearly all of Piccolo's actions then, too.  Was it about Kadrin and Morodath, then?  The psi-down?  He wasn't sure.

            Well, whatever the reason was, Tien stood up and walked out the door, nodding once in acknowledgement of Kami's presence.

            "Piccolo, child, you cannot fight all your life," Kami said gently but sternly, holding the other Namek's fierce gaze.  "Some things must be left in the past."  To all outward appearances, the older Namek seemed fatherly and concerned, but that did not fool Piccolo.  He caught the flash of anger in the Guardian's eyes, well-disguised but still there.  He felt himself rise to the challenge.

            "That's easy for _you_ to say," he snapped, curling his lips back in a soundless growl.  "All _you_ do is sit on your marble throne and sleep."

            Kami himself barely contained a frustrated growl, tightening his grip on his staff even more.  "Arrogant boy," he said, clenching his teeth, "you shall be the downfall of us all.  Stop this foolishness immediately."  Within seconds his demeanor changed from parental to forbidding.  If he hadn't known better, Goku would have thought that Kami was about to attack Piccolo.

            Chiaotzu was thinking along the same lines as Goku.  _Ah, don't push him, Kami,_ the psychic silently begged the Guardian, clasping his hands in his lap.  _He already has much against you.  Please don't make it worse.  Don't ruin your last chance of helping him._  Over the last two years, starting with his sacrifice, Piccolo had become more and more aware of the fact that he did not need to be governed by the destiny his sire had set for him.  He could be better than that, he decided.  He did not have to listen to Daimao's envenomed words.  And the more he learned, the more he realized that he could have been free of his sire's evil clutches much sooner.  Piccolo would rather die than admit it, but those years under Daimao's dark shadow had been a living nightmare for him.  He lived as though under a fog, with his senses and judgment clouded – and it took Gohan to snap him out of it.  Sleep he had had only rarely, for it was more of a struggle than an escape to him, filled with unspeakable horrors that caused him to cry out in the night and wake in a cold sweat.  Mighty Namekian warrior he might be, but it did not protect him from his sire's terrible grasp.

            Kami was the sole being who could have helped him conquer this evil.  Kami could have shown him the life he could be leading instead of carrying out his sire's dark orders.  Instead, it had been the young child of his most hated enemy who had shown him what life should be like.  It had taken a love born of innocence and the bonds of friendship to free him from his path.  And Kami had done nothing.

            Correction: Kami had let the hatred fester in his soul until it had nearly consumed him and erased every chance for goodness in him.  Kami had dismissed him as the evil spawn of the Earth's greatest threat, not as his own flesh and blood.  Kami had not seen fit to free a tormented young child from the dreams of the Demon Lord.  And because of this, Kami had nearly destroyed any chance of Piccolo ever renouncing his dark side on his own.  If he alienated him now, Chiaotzu thought with a shudder, Piccolo might even begin to slip back into what he once was.  It was taking everything the Earth's defenders had to be understanding and almost gentle with him, to ease him into the life he should have had if Kami had intervened.  As it was, Piccolo was still very bitter when it came to his older counterpart; it was a long-standing grudge that would not be broken down easily.

            And all Kami seemed to be doing was adding to the distance between them.

            Piccolo nearly laughed.  "Who are you to be speaking of foolishness?" he spat, squinting to hide another dizzy spell.  "Is it foolish to defend my honor?"

            "You have none!" Chi-Chi interjected angrily before Piccolo could say anything else.

            "_Silence!_" Kami bellowed then, much to everyone's surprise.  Piccolo actually raised an eye ridge at him, and Chi-Chi nearly leapt into Goku's arms in shock.  The Guardian was generally a peaceful being.  He never raised his voice in anger, at least until now, and only rarely did he shout at all.  "I did not come here to listen to arguments.  I am here to discuss the recent battle.  Take your fight elsewhere."  He turned his attention, and the full force of his glare, back to Piccolo.

            Unnoticed by the two Nameks and the woman, Gohan had snuck out during the verbal battle.

            Goku felt more than saw his son leave the room.  The boy was clearly upset by the morning's events, his aura reflected that much.  Gohan seemed a bit distanced on this day, but given the events, it was to be expected.  His "second father" and his mother were going at each other's throats.  He didn't feel very thrilled with what was going on, either.  He ran a hand through his hair and glanced over at Krillin again, who met his gaze with a soft sigh.  Neither of them knew what to expect.

            Piccolo scowled up at Kami.  "What do you intend to do, old man?" he asked gruffly.

            "I need to speak with you in private, Piccolo," the Guardian said, "but since you're not going anywhere anytime soon, I'll have to do it here."  He stared unblinking into the young warrior's eyes, more than slightly disconcerted by what he saw in the onyx orbs.  _Should I assume that you hear this?_ he asked mentally, maintaining eye contact.

            It was only through this contact that he saw the pain he had just caused.  Outwardly, Piccolo winced and inhaled sharply, balling his hands into fists.  Inside, though…Kami watched as those luminous dark eyes clouded over briefly before blackening once again.  "Don't do that," Piccolo hissed, startling Chi-Chi and Krillin.

            "What was that?" Kami questioned.  "Are you feeling all right?"

            Piccolo snorted.  "If I knew, I would have warned you."

            The older Namek sighed, glancing briefly down at his taloned hands.  "Then I shall have to do this another way.  The others cannot hear what I have to say to you, child."  Kami did not need to look at Piccolo's face or hear his thoughts to know what he was thinking then.  _Don't call me that.  I'm no child._  "Can you create your mental training grounds?" he asked, raising his eye ridges.

            "Fine.  If you can get in, then you can talk."  Piccolo then closed his eyes and dropped into a meditative state, quickly enough that Kami and the others wondered at how much practice he had at it.  The Guardian glanced back at Goku and nodded once before turning his attention back to the matter at hand.  Ignoring the humans' incredulous stares, he placed his right hand lightly on Piccolo's right shoulder, being careful not to shift the bandages and reopen any wounds.  Then he, too, began to meditate, hoping desperately that the physical contact with his 'son' would allow him to follow the younger Namek into his training realm.

            It did.

            Kami opened his eyes again in a large, boundless field.  He was standing upon a bed of moss, under a tree that seemed a bit worse for the wear.  A few more withered trees stood nearby, while an entire forest sprouted up behind them.  With a start he recognized his surroundings: it was the place he had seen when he first tapped into the young Piccolo's mind.  It was the grove in which Piccolo had shattered his eggshell and taken his first real breath.

            "Stop with the sentimentality, old man," Piccolo's voice snapped from somewhere nearby.  "You're going to rot your teeth out."

            "I beg your pardon?" Kami asked, looking around wildly for the younger Namek.  "How did you hear me?"  _I must tread carefully now,_ he thought.  _This is his territory, and I am at his mercy.  There is no place for pride here, only the utmost caution._

            "Simple."  Piccolo stepped out from the shadows in the forest behind him.  "You're in my mind, and you're thinking loud enough to wake the dead.  If there were any here."  He crossed his arms over his chest and strode past the dumbfounded Guardian and into the field, stopping at a large patch of scorched earth.  "Now talk.  I don't want you in here any longer than you need to."  He turned back to Kami and glared at him.

            "So be it, Piccolo," Kami said as he moved to join up with his young counterpart.  "I want to know what has been going on with you.  It seems to me that something has changed."

            Piccolo growled low in his throat.  "Goku's wife began harassing me for no reason, accusing me of ignoring Gohan and of being destructive in general."

            Kami shook his head.  "That can't be all," he said, more of a statement than a question.

            For a few minutes the two Nameks spoke.  Piccolo told the Guardian about what had happened just before Kadrin's death…and Kami frowned deeply.  _Ki_ did not just appear out of thin air, and he knew it.  Then again, Piccolo had been pouring his life-_ki_ into the attack, so who knew what was happening?  Perhaps Roshi, the Turtle Hermit, would be able to help.  He had been training fighters for over one hundred years.

            "And the hybrids sprayed a mixture of chemicals into our faces when they first landed, called 'psi-down/G'," Piccolo added.  "From what I can see, Goku hasn't been affected much at all.  I think the psi-down blocks psychic activity."  The demon screwed his face into a frown.  "That would explain why it feels like I'm burning my mind up when I try using it to speak or listen.  But I don't know what the 'G' would have been."

            It was Kami's turn to frown now.  "Piccolo," he said, digging his talons into the wood of his staff, "the 'G' might be something that specifically targets a species, perhaps even ours.  It might have something to do with your healing rate, but I cannot be certain.  All I can say is that Goku's wounds are nearly healed, and yours are not.  With our regenerative abilities, you should have been fine a few days ago; your body would have patched itself up, and you would be merely regrowing skin by now.  But you aren't."

            "And what do you expect me to do about this?" Piccolo snapped.  "Find Morodath and ask him to kindly give me the antidote to whatever he sprayed on us?"

            "That would be hard, since Tien dealt him the finishing blow when he arrived upon the scene," Kami said, exasperated with the younger Namek's attitude.  "What I will expect of you is that you hang on to life with everything you've got.  You're in for one wild ride, Ma Junior, and I hope you're up to the task."

            Confusion, and shock, flashed across Piccolo's face for an instant before he slammed down his mask once again.  He did not even acknowledge Kami's use of his other name.  "What are you talking about?" he growled, narrowing his eyes into mere slits.

            "What I'm saying is that your body doesn't have the energy to repair itself, and your wounds are taxing the strength you don't have.  Your body is rebelling against itself.  If you don't fight it, Piccolo, you will die."

            With a sudden burst of _ki_, Piccolo heaved Kami out of his mind and tore himself from his meditation.  Both Nameks inhaled deeply and opened their eyes at the same time.  Piccolo's eyes were full of anger, Kami's filled with sympathy.  "That's enough," Piccolo growled weakly, as though the Guardian's final statement had started a chain reaction in his body that now sapped at his remaining _ki_.  Had it already begun, or was he imagining it?

            "Piccolo," Kami panted, more than a little out of breath, "you must be careful now more than ever.  I have heard of the problems in the Afterlife, and of what happened to Baba's crystal ball.  You have an enemy, my son, and I'm afraid that you are not strong enough now to face it."  He locked eyes with the son of Daimao – and it was not the demon who backed down.

            "I am not your son," Piccolo growled.  "Now get out."

            With one final glance at the injured warrior, Kami wordlessly teleported himself out of the room.  In his wake he left a small burst of _ki_, just enough to light up the room for a few seconds.  Goku fixed his eyes on the spot the Guardian had vacated, for lack of activity, until Piccolo broke the silence.

            "I need to talk to you alone, Goku," the Namek said slowly, turning his head and looking the man in the eye.  "And I want one of you to send the old man up when you leave."

            _Peculiar request,_ Krillin thought as he stood up and stretched.  _I wonder what Kami said to him._  Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Chi-Chi dashing out the door.  It was rather obvious that she did not want to stick around.  Though it seemed Chiaotzu was more willing to stay and listen.  The emperor reluctantly floated out the door, and Krillin couldn't blame him.  He was all but dying of curiosity himself.  _Well, whatever it is, I hope it's not too serious.  The Earth can't handle another alien attack right now._

            The monk nearly ran down the Turtle Hermit as he walked out the door.  "Good luck," he told his master.  "This won't be easy."

            "I rather expected not," Master Roshi replied, sidestepping around his student.  "It's like sticking your hand into a jar of vipers.  You never know when they'll bite."  Then he disappeared into the room and pulled the door shut behind him.

            "Too right," Krillin muttered as he descended the stairs.  "Too right."

* * * * *

As always, thank you for reading this chapter.  'Til next time.

~Dreamwraith


	16. Chapter Sixteen

For once, I actually have a few comments to make.

The last chapter might seem reminiscent of another chapter to another story, but to ease your fears, I am not stealing any ideas.  I've had this stage of the story written down for nearly five years.  It's a coincidence, and nothing more…though it's a _cool_ coincidence, I must add.

And yes, the Kami-Piccolo relationship is more uncle/nephew, but Kami has called Piccolo his son before, and my take on the situation is that it changes.  It wouldn't be a very interesting story if _everything_ was canon.  But I do appreciate the information.

And without further ado, the chapter.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own DBZ.  I own the Seer, the demons' realm, and the mentioned serums and chemicals.

**Chapter Sixteen**

            "Kami said you might know what is wrong with me," Piccolo said as Master Roshi closed the door.  "Start talking."

            "My, a bit rude, aren't we?" the old man huffed as he sat down in the chair Krillin had only recently vacated.  "Are you ever polite, Piccolo?"

            The Namek ignored his comment.  "First of all, he was not sure if the _ki_ I tapped into was my life force, and he said you could identify the difference between that and normal _ki_."  He waited for the Turtle Hermit's answer expectantly, scowling when it did not come right away.  Master Roshi glared right back at him.

            "Are you quite finished with your display of temper?" he snapped.  "I have better things to do with my day than playing question-and-answer with you, Piccolo.  Give me a minute to organize my thoughts."

            Goku's eyebrows raised perceptibly.  Those 'better things' the old man talked about were probably his magazines, but still…not only did he sound intelligent, but he was aggravating someone who could vaporize him with a gesture!  Master Roshi had almost always been afraid – or wary – of Piccolo, but this…this was almost amazing!

            "Well," the old man began after a few minutes, "it all depends on a few things, like color and how you felt using it.  If your _ki_ attack turned some shade of red, or even purple, then you were putting your life-_ki_ into it.  And if the center of your body began to hurt badly, that would be it, too.  But it all depends.  You certainly _look_ like you've been draining yourself.  And when Gohan brought you in here, we could barely identify you by your _ki_.  At least that's what Krillin told me."  He stopped there and took a deep breath, before looking down the length of the bed and right at Piccolo.

            The Namek looked thoughtful.  "Sounds about right," he said finally.  "There's still something I want to know, but it's nothing I can't handle.  The other thing _Kami_ couldn't figure out is why I'm not healing."  He spat the name out as if it was distasteful.  And it was, to him.

            Master Roshi opened his mouth to answer, but Goku interrupted him.  "If I might," he said quickly, "I think I know what the answer to this one is.  It might be that 'G' serum they sprayed on us.  You, Piccolo, you're a Namek – "

            "I know _that_," Piccolo interjected angrily.

            " – and I'm a Saiyan.  I don't have your regenerating ability.  Maybe that serum was made to counter that?  It would only target whatever gave you that ability, and it would block it somehow.  That would make sense, since I'm healing just fine."

            Piccolo actually laughed a bit, the gravelly sound startling the other two men.  "For once, Son Goku, I think I have to agree with you.  It does make sense."  Then he was calm and acting like himself again.  "But it goes farther than this," he continued, "and that's why the two of you are in here.  Between the two of you, you know what is wrong with me, and that it goes past overtaxing my strength and _ki._"  He glanced quickly at Goku, and the Saiyan saw the ghost of concern – and fear? – in his eyes.  Goku had never known Piccolo to be openly afraid of anything, except when he had realized Frieza was still alive on Namek, before Goku had reached the Super Saiyan transformation.

            Master Roshi looked over at him as well.  "I think I should start off by telling you two how you got here.  Mmm.  From what I heard, you two, Tien and Gohan went out after you right after Goku's _ki_ dropped so dramatically.  Tien ran across one of the aliens who came and, ah, disposed of him.  The alien had been muttering something about 'tainted', but then again, part of his skull looked like it had been cracked.  So it was a mercy killing, really."

            Goku and Piccolo exchanged glances.

            "But that's not a big part of your story.  Tien grabbed you, Goku, and Gohan grabbed you, Piccolo, and they both flew over here.  Krillin says that's what happened there, and that he and Yamcha and Chiaotzu had flown up to meet them.  Gohan kept calling your name, Piccolo, and he nearly panicked because you weren't answering."  The Turtle Hermit chuckled.  "He's still too young for this.  He didn't realize that you weren't going to be answering him for a bit.  But from what I heard, you were bleeding pretty heavily.  Krillin told them to bring the both of you here, saying something about Chi-Chi not wanting blood all over her floor.  Goku, they set you down on the couch and sent Chiaotzu off to the Lookout for some senzu beans.  Piccolo, Gohan carried you up here with Krillin and Yamcha.  Krillin had to tie the bandages on you."

            "Yeah, I watched'em change the bandages yesterday," Goku added, frowning.  "You should see yourself.  Don't you feel anything?"

            Krillin had done a very thorough job of wrapping him up, Piccolo thought as he finally looked over the damage he had incurred.  He hadn't noticed it before – a large mistake on his part – but he hadn't been worried about it at the time.  He had been more preoccupied with the outcome of the battle and with his location than he was with his injuries.  So he glanced down and repressed a shudder.  His gi top was gone – understandable, since it had been in tatters by the end of the battle – and in its place were heavy bandages, wrapped about his stomach.  His wrists and forearms were wrapped in blood-soaked cloths, the damage done by the sword still not healing.  His right shoulder was also covered with gauze, and he _thought_ there might even be something wrapped around his head.  He couldn't tell.

            _Great,_ he thought sourly.  _I look like a damned mummy._

            "That's the story," the old man said.  "You did seem a bit feverish a few days ago, but it looks like that's all cleared up.  Have I answered your question?"

            "_You_ have, but Goku has not.  I'd rather speak with him alone."  Piccolo turned the full force of his piercing gaze on Master Roshi, and the old man gave in to the demand.

            "As you wish," the Turtle Hermit said before he left the room.

            The silence remaining in the room was thick enough to cut.  "So," Goku said after a moment, "let me get this straight.  You tapped into your life force to come up with enough _ki_ to kill Kadrin, and you can't regenerate anything because of that 'G' stuff.  Am I right, so far?"

            "You are."  The Namek shifted his gaze to the Saiyan.  "But there is more to it than that, and that is why I wanted to speak with you alone.  The others cannot hear it just yet."

            Goku felt the blood drain from his face at that statement.  What could be so terrible, so frightening, that the rest of the Earth's defenders could not know about it?  "Why is that?" he asked, his voice pitched higher than normal.  He was nervous, and both of them knew it.

            "They would probably try to kill me."

            It was not the statement itself that made the Saiyan suppress a shiver, but the way in which it was said.  So matter-of-factly was the tone, as if Piccolo expected nothing less from the Earthlings.  He'd said it with a straight face, too.  The Namek was accepting it as a truth, when in fact it wouldn't even be an option with the other men.

            "They wouldn't, Piccolo," Goku said, "unless you killed someone yourself."

            "And who's to say that I won't?" Piccolo snapped back.  "You have no idea how close you all are to disaster right now, with me in your presence.  What Kami neglected to tell you and the humans is the combined effect of the serum and the use of my life energy.  He did not tell you that my body is unable to repair itself, and how the little _ki_ I have left to me is being drained by my injuries and by my core itself, trying to replenish its lost life force!  Kami told _me_ that my own body is rebelling against me, and that I must fight back."

            "Or else what?" Goku pressed, both fascinated and shocked that Piccolo, for some reason he didn't care to learn, was trusting him with this information.  It was no small burden, either, and it had never been easy for the Namek to warm up enough to others to share anything of this magnitude.  Well, this was different, he supposed, and _somebody_ else had to know about it.

            True to his observation, Piccolo was silent for half a minute, waging an inner war with his mind and upbringing, debating if he should uncover the problem for all to see.  He did speak at last, but quietly, and Goku strained his ears to hear the fateful words.  "I would die."

            Once more it seemed as though time had come to a screeching halt for Piccolo.  He watched, interested, as the expression on Goku's face slowly shifted from questioning to disbelief to horror and back to disbelief.  The man's mind was obviously overloading, he thought.

            Goku's mind raced in the stunned silence.  Dying?  _Piccolo?_  He could remember his first impression of the other warrior, back at the last Tenka'ichi Budokai.  Swift, deadly, and virtually unstoppable.  Nearly unbeatable.  This recent bit of news clashed sharply with the man's mental image of the Namek, so incongruous that it didn't register until a few seconds later.  "You _what?_" the Saiyan yelped, loud enough that Oolong looked up from trying to extinguish the flaming meal downstairs.

            Piccolo clamped his hands down over his ears and grimaced.  Goku began rattling off sentences as soon as they were formed in his brain, and the gibberish he spoke nearly made the Namek smack him.  "What do you mean you're dying you can't be you're not that bad it's just a fight what about a senzu did you try a senzu you can't be dying we can't wish you back how is it even possible it's crazy are you sure that – "

            "Be _quiet!_" Piccolo bellowed, effectively cutting off the Saiyan's jumbled train of thought (and speech).  "Whether you think it's possible or not is irrelevant.  I can feel it happening even now, and nothing you can say will do anything to help.  So stop with the sentiment."

            Goku's eyes opened wide with concern.  "But – "

            "No," the green man interrupted again, holding up a hand to silence him.  "I don't want your sympathy or your condolences.  That isn't why I asked you to stay.  I must tell you more about what is to come, and its danger."

            "What do you mean, danger?" Goku asked.  "If your body is having a tug-of-war between your life and your regeneration, how can that harm us?"

            Piccolo growled at the man's naivety.  Apparently the man's intelligence came in spurts, or perhaps it was his 'stupidity' that did.  Either way, it was getting on his nerves, and he couldn't afford the extra tension.  "Because I will not be able to control my _ki_.  It's like a battle, where free _ki_ arcs across the field.  That is what will happen to me."  He narrowed his eyes before continuing.  "I might end up channeling _ki_ into a vessel it should not occupy, like one of you.  It would be no different than attacking with a highly concentrated _ki_ ball."

            The Saiyan felt his mouth drop open, and he hastily closed it.  "You're kidding, right?"

            "You'll wish that I was by the time this is over," came the growled response.

            Goku looked away from the Namek briefly.  When he glanced back, Piccolo's eyes were closed, and his lips were pressed tightly together.  He chose to say nothing, a wise decision on his part.  His ally looked weary, exhausted.  There were lines near his eyes that had not been there before, or had they?  Had he not noticed the other man's physical state until now?  Or could this all have just happened?  Goku wasn't sure.  Piccolo was an expert at hiding his emotions and true physical state.  He wouldn't have been surprised to discover that Piccolo had been hiding it all along.

            He _was_ surprised when Piccolo spoke again.

            "It's an odd feeling, this 'illness'," the green man said softly.  "It's a fire, burning inside…scorching.  It's already happening, the dizziness, the pain, the fever.  Is there a reason to hang on?  For this?"

            Piccolo opened his eyes and looked straight at him.  It was so uncharacteristic of him! Goku thought.  He _never _said anything like this!  Something _had _to be wrong with him for Piccolo to be acting like this.  In his eyes Goku could see pain, bitterness…and sadness?  Sadness?  _Why would he be sad?_ was the thought that crossed the man's mind, but he mentally shook himself and thought better of it.  _He'd have good reasons to be,_ Goku berated himself.  _He's been alone all his life, and now when he's got people he can call friends he's faced with the possibility of leaving them.  He never had the chance to be a child.  He was never tucked in at night.  He never ate chocolate.  He never had a teddy bear.  He had a psycho for a father.  Boy, I could go on with this forever!  But why is he sad now?  It's almost like he wants to – hey!_  "You aren't going to die now, Piccolo," Goku told him sternly.  "Gohan would never recover if I had to tell him that his mentor and friend just gave up."

            The emotions in the Namek's eyes turned to something more familiar to the both of them: anger.  "Do you think it is merely about 'giving up', Son Goku?" Piccolo hissed, balling his hands into fists.  The gesture was not lost on the Saiyan.  "What if I was to tell you that I am tired of the rage and fear the people you call friends feel toward me?  What if I was to say that I am tired of being thought of as my sire?  I will not be accepted, but I will not be ignored!"

            It was about as close to being a spoken longing for friendship as Piccolo would ever come, and Goku knew it.  "You are part of our group now, you know," he said quietly.  "It shows.  Krillin doesn't run from you any more, that much I've seen.  And Tien talks to you.  They aren't that afraid of you now."

            Piccolo snorted in disgust.  "Your wife would rather see me dead."

            "She'll cope."  Goku gave him the classic Son grin, complete with the hand behind the head.

            An expression that could have passed for a smile crossed Piccolo's face for an instant, but it faltered in the next as a stray thought (or was it? he wondered later) crossed his mind.  _But you could have been stronger.  If you hadn't needed to hide, you would have been able to train in the open, without fear or hindrance.  The problem you have now, you could have solved by killing them all years ago.  Then you could have left, and none of this would have happened. It is their fault you are not as strong as you should be.  Kill them now._

            It was Goku's turn to watch as Piccolo's face ran a brief gamut of emotions before he slammed down his concealing barrier again.  Was he confused? he wondered.  "If nothing else, I'll be here for you if you need me," he said.  Then he ducked his head in embarrassment.  What was he thinking?  Too open!  Piccolo would scowl at him and tell him he was acting like a human child.  He wouldn't accept an open declaration of friendship, would he?  _Never,_ the Saiyan told himself.  With his face a pink color, he looked back up at the Namek.

            "I might need to take you up on that," Piccolo replied, his amusement evident in the tone of his voice.  Then he became serious again.  "Now go, before your taskmaster comes looking for you."

            "All right," Goku said as he stood up.  "Try to rest up a bit.  You know what to do if you need me."  With some difficulty he limped his way to the door and stopped in the frame.  "Okay?"  He turned his head back to catch Piccolo's response.

            "Scram," the green man spat.

            Goku chuckled as he left the room and shut the door behind him.  He walked as quietly as he could down the hallway, musing about their conversation…and he yelped in surprise as Bulma began yelling at him to come down and eat lunch, even though it was unidentifiable – burned to a crisp in the bottom of the baking pan.

            _Well,_ he thought hopefully, _maybe they'll order out._

* * * * *

As always, let me know how this chapter was.  I appreciate your time.

~Dreamwraith


	17. Chapter Seventeen

I've been thinking about senzu beans and how exactly they work, and the only reason I pulled my theory together is because a reviewer brought it up.  Thank you, Bonzo the Fifth.  I hope the idea is sound.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own DBZ or any of its characters.  I do own my original characters and places.  And that's about it.

**Chapter Seventeen**

            "Mmmf, dissh shur ish guh!" Goku exclaimed through a mouthful of food.

            "Why don't you wait until your mouth is _empty_, Goku?" Bulma asked, smacking him across the back of the head.

            The rest of the table erupted into laughter.  Somehow, Master Roshi and Krillin had crammed everyone around the table in the living room, and the warriors were enjoying their lunch.  Some a bit _too_ much, as Goku proved.  "I said, mmm, this sure is good!" the Saiyan repeated indignantly.  He puffed out his chest and frowned, which caused another ripple of laughter in the room.

            "Well, I'm glad you enjoyed it," Bulma said, glancing over at Oolong, who was pouting near the door.  "If I hadn't gotten down here when I did, we wouldn't have had anything at all to eat."  She glared at the shapeshifter, who stuck his tongue out at her.  It was no secret that Oolong couldn't cook, and when Bulma had found the group's lunch – or what had once been their lunch – she had taken it upon herself to try to remedy the problem.  She immediately pushed the pig out of the kitchen and, with Yamcha's help, had begun making scrambled eggs and bacon (which, of course, irked Oolong to no end).  She had just finished the first batch up when Tien had come down from the room, and the second batch was finished by the time Chi-Chi had barreled down the stairs.  The third and fourth batches, for the Saiyans, were done not even five minutes later.

            "At least your cooking has improved," Yamcha teased, ducking the resulting swat in his direction.

            "At least I _can_ cook," Bulma replied, glancing over at Goku, who was stuffing his face with more bacon.  Oolong, she noticed wryly, looked as if he was about to be sick.  She then snuggled herself against Yamcha's arm.

            "So what happened, Goku?" Krillin asked, before everyone could start laughing again.  "What did he say up there?"

            Goku looked up quickly from another handful of bacon.  "Say wha-?" he began to ask, when Krillin interrupted him.

            "Uh, with your mouth empty, please, if you don't mind," the monk said, tilting his head slightly to the right.

            "Oh, right."  The Saiyan then gulped down what was in his mouth, and hanging _out_ of his mouth, before he said anything else.  Krillin sighed, wiping his own mouth.  _That man is a piranha,_ he thought.  _Stick anything in front of him while he was eating, and it would go in there, too.  Come to think of it, King Kai said that about Tien, Yamcha, and Chiaotzu, when they were up there.  That is, if Yamcha didn't exaggerate that, but I don't think he did.  But geez, I wouldn't want to get between Goku and his food!_

            "Well," Goku said after a moment, "he didn't seem too thrilled to be stuck in that room.  I think that when he gets better, we'll have to move him out of there."  The thoughtful look on Goku's face was not lost on Chi-Chi, and she bit back a scathing comment.  The Saiyan picked up another piece of bacon and promptly began nibbling on it.

            "Is that all he said, dad?" Gohan asked anxiously.  It was painfully obvious to all in the room that the boy was hanging on every word his father said about his mentor and friend, and not a few glances were directed at Chi-Chi.  To her credit, she held her peace and kept her expression neutral.

            "No.  Did you guys give him a senzu bean at all?" Goku asked, pulling the bacon away from his mouth.  "And for that matter, did you give me one?"  Unspoken was the fear that he already _did_ eat one, and that it did not work.

            As was the norm, his fear was confirmed.  "Yeah, I got them when you both were brought in," Chiaotzu's voice piped.  "We had to grind them up and mix them in with water to get you to eat them, but you did have them.  Both of you."

            Goku's bacon hit the table with a greasy _splat_.  "You're kidding me, right?" he asked after half a minute, his eyes wide with surprise.  "I mean, you're supposed to _heal_ when you eat a senzu bean!  What happened?"  The man's confusion and fear was infectious, and it wasn't long before similar expressions of concern were shown by Tien, Yamcha, and Krillin.

            "I…have no idea, Goku," the small man said softly, shaking his head.  "I wish I could tell you."

            "However, _I_ can," Bulma said smugly, pulling herself away from Yamcha's comforting embrace.  All eyes turned to her as she stood up and cleared her throat.  "I managed to get a sample of the chemicals the hybrids sprayed on you, Goku, and they contained a regenerative inhibitor that seems to have been created specifically for combat against species that can regenerate themselves, like Nameks and starfish."

            The thought of Piccolo being compared to a starfish was almost too much for Krillin, and he had to bite his tongue hard to hold back his laughter.  "And how's that making the senzu beans not work?" he asked, running a hand along the back of his head.

            "Shut up, shrimp, I was getting to that!" Bulma snapped at him, pulling her eyebrows down so far over her eyes that she nearly succeeded in recreating a Vegeta-glare on her face.  "But anyway," and here her expression changed so suddenly that nearly everyone jumped when she switched from scowling to smiling, "an analysis of the chemical structure of the senzu bean proves what I've been thinking all along, that it's not the bean itself that does the healing.  Rather, it's the body that does the healing…the bean is just a catalyst."

            "Pardon?" Goku asked, leaning forward.  "What does that mean?"

            "It means that the bean is triggering a response in the body.  What I think is that the senzu bean accelerates the body's natural healing rate.  A living body will eventually heal most of its wounds flawlessly – and the senzu bean just eliminates the weeks and months and years that it would take for the process to run through naturally.  But the sprayed mixture, it _specifically_ works against the healing process in rapid-regenerating organisms, even though it'll still have a lesser reaction with other beings, too.  Goku, Saiyans don't have special regenerative systems like Nameks, so you'll heal at an almost normal rate.  The senzu bean seems to have cancelled out the effect of the hybrids' chemical.  With Piccolo, the senzu bean didn't work at all.  Right now he has _no_ regenerative capabilities, so there's nothing for the senzu to act on.  He can't heal himself up, so he'll be down and out for a while."  Bulma placed her hands on her hips and looked straight at Goku.  "Did that answer your question?" she asked.

            The Saiyan frowned and cocked his head to one side.  "Mmm, I don't know," he said, shrugging.  "I guess."

            The scientist took it as _I have no idea, I don't get it anyway,_ and sighed.

            "So Piccolo's not going to heal until the mixture is out of his system?" Gohan asked, aware that his mother was giving him 'the look' again.  His face flushed a light pink, and he ducked his head.

            "Right, kid," Bulma said, relieved that _someone_ had understood what she had said.  She sunk back into her seat gratefully.

            There was silence in the room for a few minutes, before Goku spoke up again.  "But Piccolo also said the _ki_ he has left to him was being drained by his injuries and by his core, because he needs to replenish the _ki_ he drained from his life force, and it's a tug-of-war.  Because he can't regenerate and stop that, he said that there is a chance he won't pull through."

            "Come again?" Krillin exclaimed in surprise, raising both eyebrows.

            "He might die," Goku said softly.

            The room burst into exclamations of shock as the news sunk in.  "You're kidding!"  "What?"  "Huh?"  "Say what?"

            "He doesn't have the _ki_ he needs to heal, and until the G serum works its way out of him, there's the chance that he won't make it," Goku repeated in as soft a tone as he had before.

            "Is there something we can do to help?" Krillin asked, cupping his chin in his hands and leaning over the table.

            "Not that I know of, and not that he told me," the Saiyan replied.

            The room grew silent once more, until Gohan broke the silence by pushing what was left of his breakfast away from him.  "I'm not hungry anymore," he said in a small, quiet voice, and all eyes followed him as he stood up and left the room.

            It was well into the afternoon before Piccolo began feeling the full effect of the 'illness'.  It was bad enough earlier, when he'd had to cope with dizzy spells and not being able to focus.  Now, he could not clear his head; everything seemed so foggy to him.  The Namek had barely sensed the departing _ki_ of Yamcha, Pu'ar, and Bulma, even though the man had flown them next to his window before heading off.  That was definitely not something he needed.

            _Just like this fever,_ Piccolo thought miserably as he stared up at the ceiling.

            The Namek rarely fell ill, and when he did it was minor – he'd recovered within two or three days of catching it.  This was something new, and he did not like it.  His body was racked with chills, but when he put a hand to his forehead he felt strangely hot.  He'd had to materialize a blanket for himself, to keep from alerting the others to what was happening.  He did not want them to come rushing in to find him so prone, so helpless.

            Piccolo growled low in his throat.  _This is irritating, to say the least,_ he grumbled to himself.  Even the slightest sound hurt his ears now, and he had considered asking for earplugs more than once.  It would have been worthwhile, but then again, he would have been showing them how weak he really was.  Not good, at _any_ time, and he dismissed the idea.  Right now he heard the television remote hit the floor, and the resulting curse from Master Roshi.

            "Hey, Piccolo?" came a quiet voice from the doorway.  "Are you awake?"

            He did not need to turn his head to know who was speaking.  "Yeah, kid," he said in reply.

            Gohan moved forward into the room.  "How are you feeling?" he asked, staring at his feet and folding his arms in front of his body.  He was more than a little ashamed to bother his mentor, but he needed to know for himself what was happening.  A second-hand account wasn't good enough.

            "Terrible."

            "Are you…are you dying?"

            The question hit Piccolo hard.  Dying.  It was not simply reminding him of his mortality, of the frailty of all things living.  It was also a part of his dark past, the chapter of his life he thought he had closed.  Dying.  With that simple statement, a thousand memories came flooding back to him, and he squeezed his eyes shut against them – to no avail.  They were the memories of his sire, of his short childhood, of his coming-of-age.  They were memories of death, and they echoed through his mind like the word that triggered their revival.

            Reddened visions of agonized humans, screaming for mercy before his outstretched, taloned hand, danced before his eyes.  Humans falling, dying, the ground stained with their blood.  Houses burning, smoke filling the sky and painting it black.  A tall man, with long, spiked hair, laughing even as he left this world.  Explosions of _ki,_ mayhem, destruction…they all manifested themselves before him, and he could do nothing but watch helplessly as his shadowed past paraded before him.

            One 'event' in particular began to play itself out before him, one of Daimao's evil deeds that had been passed on to his own mind.  Daimao had just been cast out of Kami's body, and it was his first mindless, senseless act of destruction…a human village, where the children were just being tucked into their beds for the night.

            _No,_ he begged whatever powers were listening.  _Not this one._  It was uncharacteristic for him for him to plead in such a manner, but Piccolo did not care.  The memory of this attack had tormented his childhood dreams and threatened to overwhelm him.  He had no desire to deal with it now, but it kept coming.

            Fires, and the screams that made an eerie harmony with Daimao's chilling laughter.  He mercilessly slaughtered anything that moved, and burned away whatever did not.  It was total destruction, chaos, and the land was scarred permanently by his evening's fun.  Fun?  The way the humans had begged for their lives before him, and the cries that followed…

            "_Nooo!_" Piccolo howled.  _I am not like this!  I am not him!_  He was faintly aware of Gohan screaming and running out of the room, but he could do nothing about it.  His body went rigid as he fought to keep control of what went through his mind, and he broke into a cold sweat.  He dug his fingers into the mattress and cried out again, this time in pain.  It was too much at the worst possible time, and what little _ki_ the Namek had left to him he began to extend in an effort to rid himself of the memory.

            And then he was aware of two people running up the stairs, their feet pounding on the floor like hammers on wood.  He gritted his teeth, and a quiet moan escaped from his parted lips.

            "Piccolo!  Stop!" Goku called from the hall.  If Piccolo had glanced over at the doorway, he would have seen a hand shoot out from the shadowed hall and latch onto the door frame.  Then he would have seen Goku slinging himself through the door with his forward momentum and skidding to a halt before the bed.  Had the situation been different, he would have smirked.

            "Stop!  It's us!" Krillin exclaimed, following in a more controlled manner.

            At the sound of their voices, edged with fear, the Namek abruptly went limp.  He was not unconscious; far from it, really.  He clutched at the sheets under him and tore holes in the flimsy fabric.  Goku rushed forward and put a hand to his forehead – rather foolish of him, since Piccolo was not in full control of himself – and withdrew it almost immediately.

            "He's burning up!" Goku yelped.  "Water water water water!"  He rushed out of the room and back down the hallway for something that could help, even though a bowl of cool water would not help the Namek much now.

            Piccolo bit back a groan as Krillin took the Saiyan's place.  Both men could hear startled exclamations coming from downstairs, presumably from Tien and Chiaotzu.  "Hang in there, Piccolo," the monk said, dropping a hand to the edge of the mattress, "Goku's trying to get help."  He watched as Piccolo turned his head on the pillow and opened his eyes, and he winced.  The Namek's eyes were obviously not focused on him, but Krillin knew he was trying.  Piccolo's normally jet-colored eyes were clouding over, and the whites of his eyes were faintly tinted with pink.

            "Damn…them…" Piccolo rasped, his breath coming in short gasps.

            "Who?" Krillin asked urgently, leaning over the side of the bed.  "Who, Piccolo?"

            The green man did not respond.  Instead, he tightly closed his eyes again and grimaced.  Krillin had to restrain himself from grabbing the Namek by the shoulders and shaking him.  He might be able to get away with it now, but when Piccolo recovered he would face a serious problem.  "Hang in there!" Krillin said again, frowning.  He so badly wanted to put a hand on the Namek's arm for comfort – his reassurance was so inadequate! – but touching Piccolo was taboo, and if he did the Namek would likely have his head on a stick.  So he gripped the side of the bed instead.

            "Move it, already, and let me see him!" came a strangely familiar voice from the doorway, and the monk was roughly pushed aside to make room for a familiar blue figure.

            _King Kai?  How did _he_ get here?_ Piccolo thought dimly, trying to focus on the god's _ki_ signature.  He must be terribly ill if he couldn't feel _that_ man's _ki_ approaching.  He'd spent a year with the North Kai, and his _ki_ was among the few he would immediately recognize wherever he was.  The god was also very straightforward, and a trip like this would have been announced, wouldn't it?  His condition must be critical, indeed.

            "Forgive me, Piccolo, but this is for your own good," the short god said quickly.

            _For what?_  And then a cool hand was rested on his forehead.  Piccolo felt everything go numb, a blessing, and then he felt nothing more.

* * * * *

Thanks for reading!  As always, I appreciate your opinions and your advice.  'Til next chapter, folks.

~Dreamwraith


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**Disclaimer:** I do not own DBZ.

**Chapter Eighteen**

Goku had the misfortune of nearly falling through the door with the precariously-balanced bowl of water. As it was, he tripped over his own feet in an attempt to not plow into Krillin, and most of the water sloshed onto his gi top regardless. "Whoa!" the Saiyan exclaimed as he caught sight of King Kai and Piccolo, the former pulling his hand away from the latter's forehead, and the latter lying limp on the bed. And then the incongruity clicked. "King Kai? What are you doing here?" Goku asked, quirking one eyebrow.

"I'm making sure Piccolo doesn't blow up the planet," the god said as he turned around and faced the other two men. "What are _you_ doing here?"

Goku, in turn, held up the not-so-full bowl of water. "Trying to keep the fever down."

King Kai snorted. "Looks like you're wearing most of it, to me. Did you go for a swim? And that reminds me, what did the Martian say to – "

"We really don't have time for jokes, King Kai," Goku interrupted, to the god's surprise. "Piccolo needs our help. Are you with us?"

The expression on the Saiyan's face reinforced his statement. Never before had King Kai seen such determination on his face…correction, only _once_ before had he seen such a look – when Goku had gone off to fight Frieza. The god adjusted his sunglasses and humphed. "Of course I'm with you!" he said. "I'm not trying to pick a fight with you, _especially _not with Piccolo like this. He'd be liable to blow us all to kingdom come!"

Krillin's face blanched. "W-What do you mean, blow us all to kingdom c-come?" he stuttered, peering around King Kai's portly form at the Namek.

"I mean exactly what I said, Krillin," the god said, sniffing. "In this condition, and I've seen it two or three times before, any _ki_-tossing will set the person off, dragging their _ki_ into the fray. And in an explosive manner, too. It's not pretty, you know."

"How did you get here, King Kai?" Goku asked, frowning as he set the bowl down on the chair at the foot of the bed. "I didn't think you could get here this fast by running down Snake Way!"

"I used Instant Transmission."

"Insta-what?"

The blue god smiled at his befuddled student. "Instant Transmission. Teleportation, if you will." And then the god was no longer by the bed. "Quite easy, really," came his voice from behind the two men. Goku and Krillin turned around quickly, but the god wasn't there. "Wouldn't you agree?" And King Kai stood directly in front of them.

Krillin felt his jaw drop, and beside him Goku did the same. "You know _that_?" the Saiyan asked. "What an awesome technique! Why didn't you teach it to me?"

"You didn't ask!" came the smug reply.

"So that's how you got here so quickly, then! Couldn't you have teleported yourself to what's left of Namek? Or even the planet Vegeta?" Goku asked, cracking his knuckles and glancing over at Piccolo.

King Kai shook his head. "Nope. You can only use it to teleport yourself to a place with _ki_. There's no _ki_ left on a dead planet."

"How did you know to come here?"

The god raised both eyebrows at the unusually inquisitive man. "My, my, so full of questions, are we?" he mused, adjusting his sunglasses again. "Well, I was listening in on your fight with those nasty mutts, Goku, and might I say congratulations on a job well done! I've been keeping an eye on them for a while, but I didn't know what they were until I peeked into your mind and saw them. But anyway, I watched your fight, and I must admit that Piccolo is a pretty quick thinker. Still, I could feel the strain you both put on yourselves, and even more so when you dropped. Piccolo was under a lot of pressure. When I caught a glimpse of his last attack, I knew something was wrong. So I've been watching the both of you. Then this happened," and here King Kai shrugged and threw his hands into the air, "and here I am."

"Is there anything you can do for him, King Kai?" Krillin asked as Goku moved the bowl of water to the floor and sank into the chair.

"Other than knocking him out the way I did, not really," the god replied, shrugging again. "You could keep a cool cloth on his forehead to help with the fever, but that's about it. If you have any more senzu beans, make sure he eats at least one more. Keep him hydrated. That sort of thing. Do whatever is necessary, even if you need to bring in a doctor of some sort. I really don't know the treatment for his condition."

The terrified expression that crossed Goku's face caused King Kai to chuckle. _He must be thinking about needles,_ he thought. _Hmm. The only thing that can frighten the greatest warrior in the universe: a small pointy piece of metal. And that sounds like a good joke to me…what's small, sharp, and silver, and is capable of scaring the strongest man alive?_

"Do you think he'll pull through?" Krillin asked, folding his arms behind his back and rocking forward on his heels.

"I would say so," the god said in reply. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully and grunted. "He's always been stubborn, this Namek, and I don't think he'd be giving up that easily."

_Is there a reason to hang on? For this?_ were the words that flashed through Goku's mind, but he said nothing. The last thing he wanted to do was undermine their confidence in Piccolo. Something like that could very well be the Namek's downfall, especially now. If he was already feeling that poorly with himself, any more negative emotions would most likely kill him. And Piccolo was always the one to take over in battle after something happened to Goku, to give the strategy, and if there was any doubt in him now there would not be that comfort. He was the unofficial Goku back-up, and quite often the reason their opponents did not win…blasting Radditz to high heaven, knocking Frieza away from Goku, taking the _ki_ beam that would have killed Goku, rendering Morodath unconscious, killing Kadrin. If something happened to Piccolo and he wouldn't be available to fight, a crisis situation would erupt. Most of the other warriors would be disoriented, at least for a moment, and a lot can happen in that time – especially in a fast-paced battle, like the ones that had been raging as of late. It could very well spell death for more than one defender.

_Your wife would rather see me dead. _ Well, he had to speak up eventually about it. If he was going to be of any help, he needed to know what would help and what would hurt. "If Piccolo's going to be so sensitive to _ki_, what about emotion?" the Saiyan asked quietly, so low that King Kai and Krillin both had to strain their ears to hear him.

"Why do you ask?" The god gave him a quizzical look.

"Chi-Chi would rather see him dead than recovering, I think. At least that's the feeling I get from her."

The downtrodden expression on Goku's face left King Kai with few options. It was depressing just to _see_ the normally vivacious man so dejected, so saddened. He _had_ to say something to comfort him, even if it was a simple you're-wrong-it's-not-like-that. "Ha," the god snorted. "A highly unlikely situation, you know. He's worth a lot more than she thinks. I think I'd know – you two are my prize pupils, you know!" Then he chuckled. "You don't know how many times I've bragged about you to the other Kais. To have trained two of the five beings that took on Frieza! They're all jealous of me, even though Piccolo wasn't an active trainee." This last part was grumbled, and Goku and Krillin had to stifle their laughter. "But still, Piccolo loves Gohan like a son, and any being with such a bond is worth saving. Mark my words, Goku, that might even be what gets him through this."

The Earthlings were so hung on his words that they failed to notice the appearance of a fourth person until he spoke up. "Do you really believe that something so simple is going to bring Piccolo out of this?" came Kami's voice from the shadows of the hall. "He is a demon, Goku, and you would do well to remember that." The Guardian of the Earth stepped forward into the room, and it was clear to the god and the two warriors that he was greatly displeased.

"Glad you could join us, Kami," King Kai said with a snort. "Where were you when your other half decided to try to blow up the planet?"

"I had other matters to attend to," the old Namek said coldly. "Piccolo would have been able to wait until I arrived."

"Yeah, like a true demon would pass up the chance to blow up both the Earth and you," King Kai snidely remarked. "Go get your priorities straightened out, Kami. Your nephew is a bit more important to the Earth right now than anything you could have possibly been dealing with."

The Guardian glowered at the blue god.

"He's not to be taken lightly either, Kami," the North Kai added. "He's the second-most powerful being on this planet, and he could be well on his way to topping even Goku's strength. I've seen the outcome of this condition he has before, and he's going to need a lot of rest and recuperation time. And he will _not_ need any hassling from you. He's vulnerable enough as it is."

The two beings, one blue and one green, locked gazes in a struggle of wills. Neither one was willing to look away, but at the same time, as the minutes passed, the prolonged staring was becoming uncomfortable for the other two men in the room. "Uh, Kami, King Kai, why is Piccolo vulnerable right now, outside of the obvious lack of consciousness?" Krillin ventured uneasily.

King Kai was the first to look away. "It doesn't really concern you, Krillin," and he shifted his gaze to Goku, "or you, Goku. We will be taking care of the matter." The god glanced over at Kami, and the Guardian did not miss the look.

"I have been monitoring his mind since before Goku's return, King Kai," Kami said with a growl. "There has been nothing out of the ordinary happening within or without it, besides this condition and the psi-down." Again he glared at the god, who seemed not to notice.

"Then you don't have to stay here any longer, Kami," King Kai said, waving a hand dismissively. "We should be fine without you."

The Guardian bristled visibly but nodded once, before glancing at Piccolo a final time. "Tell me, if and when he wakes up, if anything seems different with him, Goku, Krillin," Kami said, narrowing his eyes in concentration. "I must be going regardless. Keep an eye on him." And the Namek vanished into thin air.

King Kai was mildly surprised. "So he knows how to teleport, too, eh?" he mumbled, rubbing his chin.

"This is nuts," Krillin said matter-of-factly, moving farther into the room. "We didn't have these problems years ago. Y'know, Goku, if Radditz hadn't come here, our biggest worry would have been figuring out how to get rid of Piccolo without killing Kami. Heh. Big change."

"That was a brief visit," Goku commented with more than a little amusement. "If I didn't know any better, I would've said he didn't want to stick around any longer than he had to. I guess Kami doesn't like you very much, King Kai."

The god of the North Quadrant watched as Goku's bemused expression melted into the classic Son grin, including the hand on the back of his head. "I don't think that's it, Goku, but it was a good guess. Hmm." He scratched the tip of his nose and shifted his attention to the unconscious Namek on the bed. "I wonder what he started screaming about in the first place." It was definitely a thought to ponder, and to perhaps act on. Well, _anything_ that would make Piccolo cry out like that would be worth more than a moment's notice. He wasn't one to give voice to his fears, and what had happened not ten minutes before was quite disturbing.

Krillin walked up to the side of the bed and watched Piccolo's face as a shiver ran up his body. _He's _cold_?_ was the thought that crossed his mind, and he reached out his hand and lightly touched the Namek's forehead. _You've gotta be kidding me._ Behind him Goku and King Kai followed his movement with their eyes, lest they miss some minute detail in this unfolding drama. At least that's what it felt like to him.

His very next thought was a curse directed at Goku for having spilled the water down the front of his gi. "Yeowch!" the midget yelped, withdrawing his hand and cradling it to his chest. "He's burning up!"

The resulting responses were instantaneous. Goku leapt up from the chair and yelped as well, forgetting that he was not yet fully healed. King Kai was standing beside Krillin so swiftly the monk thought he might have teleported himself over. Then the god brushed his hand against Piccolo's forehead as well, and Krillin knew, just _knew_, that if Piccolo ever found out so many people had touched his head – no matter how briefly – there would be hell to pay. The thought of the mighty Namek on the warpath caused him to flinch.

"So the Earth Guardian was right about Piccolo," the North Kai muttered to himself before frowning, the surprise evident in his voice. "This fever of his isn't normal, but that's not all? Let's see what spooked him, shall we?" The god closed his eyes in concentration and pressed his fingertips to the sides of Piccolo's head. Goku had no idea what he was doing, but if it worked, he was welcome to it.

Krillin moved over to stand next to Goku. "What's going on?" he whispered, holding a hand in front of his face so the question wouldn't reach the blue god.

"Beats me!" Goku whispered back. "I don't know what he can possibly do, 'cuz Piccolo's not even conscious. Maybe he's trying to read his mind."

The monk shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine."

Both men watched the martial arts master intently as his frown deepened. Not a minute later, the god's eyes flew open. "Oh, my!" he exclaimed, visibly shaken. "How unfortunate!" He removed his hands from the Namek and shook his head in sympathy. "Poor boy."

"What was it, King Kai?" Goku asked, shifting his gaze from the god to Piccolo and back to the god.

"It seems to me that he's got the lion's share of his father's memories, Goku," he replied. "If he's been putting up with visions like _that_ for his whole life, I'm not surprised that he turned out as reticent, as distant as he is. The one that set off this whole fiasco was Daimao's first massacre, and let me tell you, it's not pretty. I don't think there was anything left that _didn't_ have blood on it. Ugh, I'm not going to eat for a week, and most especially not spaghetti." The disgusted expression on King Kai's face gave both Krillin and Goku a fairly good idea as to why he would be cutting out part of his diet, and neither one of them wanted him to go into any more detail. Fortunately for them, he did not.

"No kidding!" Krillin exclaimed. "Now I can understand why he's so, well, silent. I'd never speak again, if I had to watch something that bad! I wish he'd told us about this before." He shook his head and stared down at the floor, briefly admiring the grain of the wood.

"He's not one to share that which does not need to be shared, Krillin," King Kai said with a sigh, exchanging glances with Goku. "I doubt we ever would have known about this any other way."

Goku sighed as well, peering down to see what was so interesting about the floor. _I'm glad I didn't kill him when Kami demanded it, _he thought._ This Piccolo never was the evil one. We were right to get rid of Daimao._

"I do need to get going, though, you two," the blue god continued, "before King Yemma comes looking for me. I've done what I can for Piccolo, and it's come down to his willpower and sheer determination. Goodbye and good luck, and if you need me, I'm only a thought away." Both men felt his _ki_ disappear, but neither one raised their eyes from the floor for another minute.

"Thank you," Goku said belatedly, blinking. "Hey, Krillin," he added, peeking up, "do you think I should get another bowl of water?"

The Saiyan didn't have to be watching to know that his friend rolled his eyes. "I'll get it this time, Goku," the midget said, shifting his weight to one foot. "You're still a hazard."

"Oh. Do you think Chiaotzu brought over any more senzu beans?"

"Probably. We should leave Piccolo alone for now and get you one, but then should one of us sit in with him? To make sure nothing else happens?"

Goku met Krillin's concerned gaze evenly. "Sounds like a good idea. Let's get going."

The Earth warriors walked slowly out the door, at the pace set by the injured Saiyan, and closed it behind them. They made for the stairs, and only once did Goku look back. _Good luck, Piccolo,_ he thought. _You'll need all the luck you can get._

- - - - -

Thank you once again for reading! The next chapter may be up a bit later than usual because I am leaving for school in a week, and I will be busy packing. 'Til next time.

Dreamwraith


	19. Chapter Nineteen

Sorry, Suiren, but you haven't guessed correctly for once.  I give it until the next chapter.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own DBZ, nor do I own its characters or places.  However, anything you do not recognize is most likely my creation.

**Chapter Nineteen**

            Kami reappeared on the Lookout in a less-than-pleasant mood.  He hadn't expected to visit the Kame House twice in one day, but it couldn't be helped.  His encounter with the North Kai and two of his students had not gone as planned, and instead of alerting the Earth's defenders to a potential danger he had alienated them from his cause.  He only hoped they would come around before it was too late.  If they did not see his reasoning and follow it to its logical conclusion, Piccolo could destroy them all.

            That was still a big if, though, but they needed to exercise more caution than they had been.  Goku was still strung up on the whole "repent and be friends" ideology, and that would cause only problems.  Kami hung his head as he tossed his cloak behind his shoulders and strode forward into the palace.  He had a lot of research to do if he was to be credible, and _that_ would be nothing short of miraculous.  The Guardian gritted his teeth as he began the long walk through the palace's winding corridors to the library.  "So precious few…so little time," he muttered under his breath.  It never paid to underestimate demons, and if his assumptions were correct, they could not afford to this time.

            The aging Namek thought back to the conversation he had had with Uranai Baba not that long ago, and he winced in spite of himself.  From what he understood, some powerful being from some other realm had sought to extend its sphere of influence into the physical plane and had corrupted the witch's crystal ball in its bid for power.  And Kami had gotten an earful about how she had _just_ gotten her ball fixed and tuned up, cleaned – and after fifteen minutes of it he had wished he'd never consulted her.  He had heard Piccolo's side of the story and thought it wise to hear Baba's, and it was a good decision.  His evil half's youngest son had failed to mention the way the warriors had been tossed about like rag dolls, or the fact that Baba was almost unable to bind the being to its own realm.

            _Blast the boy,_ he thought angrily.  _He would not heed my counsel, and now he has the rest of the warriors backing him.  If only they knew what a serious mistake they were making!_  Kami was jolted out of his thoughts when Mr. Popo abruptly appeared in the hallway and ran right into him.  "Oof!" the Guardian exclaimed as he was knocked to the ground.  His staff flew out of his hand and clattered to the ground.

            "Oh, Kami!" the djinn cried, rushing forward and extending a hand to the Namek.  "Are you all right?  I'm so sorry!"

            "I'll be fine, Popo," the Namek replied, rubbing his back with one hand and clasping the djinn's hand with the other.  He allowed the other man to pull him to his feet.

            Mr. Popo peered up at his friend's face.  "So, how did your visit go?" he asked, folding his arms behind his back.

            "Not too good, Popo," the Guardian said, grimacing and picking up the staff.  "I did not have the opportunity to tell them about our problem, nor was I able to warn them about what might be lurking in his mind."  He then began his trek down the hall again, and the djinn joined him.

            "Oh, dear, that is not good at all, Kami," Mr. Popo said anxiously, shaking his head.

            "No, it's not.  It's bad enough that Piccolo will not accept any aid from me, but now the rest of the warriors believe I do not care about what is happening to him."  Unknown to the Guardian, Mr. Popo stopped briefly in his tracks in confusion.  He resumed his pace before the error was noticed.  "That's not it at all," Kami continued, putting a hand to his forehead.  "From what research I've done so far, Piccolo's mind is going to be vulnerable to the same kind of attack he had suffered weeks ago.  I was pulled from my study to see an unconscious warrior, Popo.  They do not understand that they cannot help Piccolo if another such attack is launched.  Do you understand what I am saying?"

            "I think so, Kami.  But what happens if we are too late?"

            "Then the Earth will not survive the aftermath."

            Mr. Popo tugged at the Guardian's sleeve as a thought that had been bothering him all day came to the front of his mind.  "Kami, how much of this could have been prevented if you had taken Piccolo in as a child?"

            Kami sighed.  Leave it to Popo to bring up the touchiest question possible.  "Much of this could have been avoided, Popo," and he grimaced, "to be honest.  I believe that had relations between Piccolo and I been better, they would not be brushing me aside."  _And perhaps we would not need to worry about other-worldly beings attacking the Earth through him._

            Neither occupant of the Lookout met the other's eyes for a few minutes.  When they did, it was a brief but meaningful exchange.  "Let's just hope he pulls through this quickly," Kami said, furrowing his brow as he entered the library.

            Unspoken was the addition, _or else we are all done for._

            It wasn't until late in the evening that everyone in the Kame House began to bed down for the night.  Tien and Chiaotzu had said their goodbyes just after dinner, with the promise of stopping in every few days.  Chiaotzu had winked to Gohan on the side and told him that if he needed to get away from Chi-Chi, he could stay with Tien and himself.  Much to Chi-Chi's chagrin, her family remained at the house – Goku was in no condition to fly her around, and she would not tolerate Gohan carrying her.  So she and her husband camped out in the living room, and Gohan slept in with Krillin.

            Krillin was in the kitchen with Goku and Master Roshi when Gohan snuggled himself into his sparring partner's cozy bed, wrapping himself in the wonderfully soft blankets.  He'd had a rough day, and it was time for a well-deserved rest.  "Goodnight, dad, mom," he murmured, a habit from his own quiet home in the woods, where the three of them would not sleep until each had wished the other a good night's sleep.  They did not hear him, which in of itself did not matter – they were talking about Piccolo again.

            To the best of the boy's knowledge, the god who had trained his dad had stopped in earlier, when Piccolo had begun screaming about something.  And he had knocked Piccolo out before Kami came in.  After the old Namek and the blue god both left, they'd been graced with a few hours of inactivity.  Then Piccolo had nearly gone into another screaming fit, or so he had heard.  Krillin was talking about it right now, and Gohan strained his ears to hear his words.  "…and the way he just grimaced like that.  He almost tore holes in his hands with his fingers…still…but no…just fine, not…still hot to the touch…" was what he could glean from the conversation, and the boy berated himself for not learning how to listen like Piccolo.

            _Piccolo just _has _to come back!_ the demi-Saiyan thought fiercely.  _He and dad are almost unstoppable together!_  And he fell asleep with that happy thought in his mind.

            Gohan laughed.  Of course it was a dream, he mused, because Piccolo was standing before him with a smirk on his face.  "What's so funny, kid?" the Namek asked wryly, tilting his head slightly to the right.

            "Aw, nothing, Piccolo," he said, lowering his eyes.  "It's just so beautiful out here."  The boy gazed appreciatively at the emerald grass, almost of a color as his mentor's skin.  They stood together in a field full of this colorful grass, and with occasional patches of other vegetation.  Two or three trees stretched their branches to the azure sky, their leaves fanned out and rustling gently in the warm breeze.  Gohan sighed.  Why couldn't it be like this when he _wasn't_ dreaming?

            So intent on the ground was he that he nearly missed hearing the wind speak.

            Wait a second…the wind was speaking?  Gohan glanced up quickly at his mentor, but the Namek's mouth was closed.  _It was too easy,_ the breeze murmured quietly in his ears.  _He still harbors that hatred, that anger._

            "Did you say something, Piccolo?" Gohan asked, awaiting an answer.  But Piccolo merely shook his head and turned his back to the boy.  Gohan paid him no heed then, since the Namek often ignored him when he became too annoying.  So he dropped to his hands and knees and began rolling around in the lush grass, smiling the whole time.  

            But the smile faded when the wind whispered again.  _Soon…soon he will fall._

            Now _that_ wasn't something Piccolo was likely to say, and the boy began to worry.  "Piccolo?  Are you sure you…" his voice trailed off as he realized the Namek was no longer in sight.  "Piccolo?" he called, propping himself up on his elbows.  "Where are you?"  His wide-eyed gaze met with nothing other than trees and grass.  _It's all working out as you planned._

            The demi-Saiyan stood up and began brushing dead grass off his clothes.  "This isn't fun," he grumbled to himself, pulling a twig out of his hair.  "I _know_ I'm dreaming – this is a lucid dream.  So why can't I control what's going on?  Blast it all!  At least my Calculus book hasn't appeared yet."  Though he was growing concerned about this voice he kept hearing.  Ah, Bulma would jump on him in an instant if she thought he could hear other people's thoughts.  So real was the feeling she was lurking just behind him that Gohan whirled around, half-expecting to see the scientist standing there with her notebook.

            Of course, there was no one there.  "I'm getting all edgy over a dream.  Stop it," he told himself sternly.

            "Get out of here, Gohan," came Piccolo's voice, in a tone so chillingly hard that the boy shivered.

            "Get out of where, Piccolo?" he called, turning his head and looking around wildly.

            "Leave, kid!  Now!" came the reply.

            By now the boy was thoroughly confused.  This wasn't supposed to be happening!  Why wasn't Piccolo showing himself?  And why was he telling him to run?  That wasn't like him at all, unless something terrible had happened.  Was that it?  But this is a dream!  Nothing can happen in a dream – that's all it is, a dream.  Wasn't it?  Gohan hugged his arms to his chest against the cold breeze that came up, and he watched as the sky darkened with clouds.  This was _definitely_ not something that happened in normal dreams, and he was beginning to pray that he didn't just get stuck in a nightmare.

            "Why haven't you left yet?" Piccolo asked angrily from somewhere behind him.

            Gohan whirled around again and came face-to-face with…nothing.

            "Piccolo?" he called, his voice quavering.  "Hey, Piccolo, this isn't funny!  Stop it!  You're scaring me!"  Gohan hunched his shoulders against the cold and shivered.  "Where are you?"

            A shrill laugh was his response, and it was not from his Namekian mentor.  "Why don't you run and hide, little Saiyan boy?" said _something_.

            And that was it.  Gohan's vague fear gave way rapidly to not terror, but anger.  "I'm not going to run because of some nameless, formless thing!" he shouted.  "That's not what I was trained to do!"

            "That hasn't stopped you before," and the voice came from somewhere off to his right.

            Gohan did not turn to face it.  "That was in the past, whoever you are.  I'm not leaving."  In his single-minded anger he began to charge his _ki_, allowing its warmth to soak into his body.  He would attack it before it could come anywhere near him.

            Then the owner of the voice chuckled – and Gohan felt a chill run down his spine.  "If that is your choice, boy, then you are welcome to it.  But I shall advise you only once to stay out of this."  And before the demi-Saiyan's astonished eyes, Piccolo suddenly appeared…locked in combat with _mist?_  No, there was an arm, and eyes, and wings – all black.  _What on Earth is he fighting?_ Gohan thought incredulously.  He watched as Piccolo threw a punch at the dark creature, and recoiled as the Namek's hand, then arm and body, flew right through it.

            The dream-Piccolo caught sight of Gohan and growled.  "I told you to leave, kid!  Get out of here before it takes you!"  He seemed almost anxious – desperate? – to get the boy away from him…

            And the whole dream went dark as Gohan was pulled roughly from his sleep and into wakefulness.

            "Hey, kiddo!  Wake up!" came Krillin's voice.  Gohan had yet to draw the connection between the voice and the hands on his shoulders that were shaking him awake.  "Are you all right?"

            Gohan opened his eyes, bleary with sleep, and yawned.  "Uh…good morning, Krillin," he said, sitting up in bed and rubbing his eyes, unaware that the monk had been practically sitting on him.  Krillin now moved to the edge of the bed as Goku and Chi-Chi came pounding down the hall.  "What's going on?"

            "You must've been having a nightmare or something, Gohan, 'cuz you were powering up and everything!" the man exclaimed.  "And you were shouting something about you not leaving because you weren't trained to run, or something like that."

            "Oh, Gohan!" Chi-Chi cried as she flew through the doorway and into the room, Goku trailing close behind her.  "Baby, are you all right?  Is that demon giving you nightmares?"  She stopped at the side of the bed and reached out her arms to him.

            Only Goku caught the look – fear? – that briefly crossed Gohan's face.  "No, mom," the boy said, inching away from her on the bed.  "It was just a dream.  I'm fine."

            "What was it about?" Chi-Chi asked, sitting down on the bed and grabbing Gohan anyway, hugging him to her.

            "The battle with Frieza," he lied, frowning and sticking his tongue out at his mother, knowing that she couldn't see him.  Krillin managed to turn his amused snort into a believable cough.

            His mother released him quickly enough, and he scuttled back across the bed.  "Oh, my baby is having nightmares about aliens!  I knew it!" she sobbed, turning to her husband and burying her face in his shirt.

            "As long as you're fine now, Gohan, we'll leave you alone," Goku said, leading Chi-Chi toward the door.  Then he shot Gohan the I'll-talk-to-you-later look and proceeded out into the hallway.

            The demi-Saiyan and the human monk exchanged glances.  "It's about Piccolo, isn't it?" Krillin stated more than asked.  He met Gohan's eyes with his own and did not look away until the young boy sighed.

            "Yeah, it was," Gohan ceded, dropping his gaze.

            "D'ya wanna tell me what happened?"

            Gohan glanced up at his sparring partner again, but Krillin's eyes held only concern, not scorn or doubt.  "Well," he said, "Piccolo kept telling me to get out of there, get away from him, and he was fighting with something that looked like it was dissolving.  He even flew right through it, and that's when you woke me up."  He made no mention of the final expression on the Namek's face, nor of the wind.  As far as he could tell, it would only upset everyone further.

            Krillin nodded and slid himself off the bed.  "At least it's only a dream, Gohan," he said, patting the boy's arm.  "You should try to get some more sleep."

            "Why?" he asked.  "What time is it?"

            "About four in the morning."  And Krillin chuckled as he, too, left the room, Gohan staring wide-eyed after him.

* * * * *

Hmm.  I noticed that this is becoming a bit dark.  Well, "a bit" might be an understatement, so let me know if I should change genres – something like that.  Either way, I appreciate your time in reading this chapter.

~Dreamwraith


	20. Chapter Twenty

I apologize for not updating in a while…moving into a dormitory will do that to a person.  So without further ado, the twentieth chapter of the slowest-moving story on the planet.

**Disclaimer:** If, for some strange reason, I turn into Toriyama, I'll be sure to let you know.

**Chapter Twenty**

            It wasn't until two days had gone by that there was any noticeable change in Piccolo's condition.  Gohan was the first to point it out, as always, through the link he shared with his mentor.  In fact, it was rather exciting for him…Piccolo had mumbled the boy's name in his induced stupor.  It had been all Chi-Chi and Goku could do to keep him from shaking the Namek and waking him up.

            Krillin chuckled to himself as he took a seat in the room housing Piccolo.  It had been a hectic morning, what with a hyper young demi-Saiyan bouncing around and all.  "You'd have smacked him, Piccolo," he told the unconscious Namek, more to hear his own voice than anything else.  "He knocked part of breakfast over, and Goku almost started crying.  Chi-Chi pulled out her frying pan, too, and she missed him.  So I had to catch him and make him clean up the mess.  And Chi-Chi had to make more toast.  It was a laugh."

            _Gohan's nightmare irregardless, it would be nice to have him back,_ Krillin thought.  His sparring partner hadn't been able to sleep for the rest of that night, and he had nearly _ki_-blasted the boy in the kitchen when he came down at 4:30 in the morning.  Kami, but Gohan had startled him.

            The midget laughed, then covered his mouth when he remembered where he was.  Goku and Chi-Chi had fallen asleep not ten minutes after the incident, and he had stayed up, figuring he'd never get to sleep before the sun came up anyway.  So he'd brewed himself a pot of coffee and settled down at the table with a book.  The book turned out to be boring, so he stared at his coffee mug instead.  And that's how Gohan found him when he came down for a glass of water.  It had been close, all right, and if Gohan hadn't yelped Krillin would have vaporized him.

            Well, would have tried.  It had taken a lot out of him to blow a hole through Vegeta, even when the Saiyan was willing and had suppressed his _ki_.  There was a good chance that Krillin wouldn't have done any major damage to Gohan – though he would have set Piccolo off again.  An image of the Kame House suddenly becoming airborne flashed through his mind, and he frowned.  That would not do at all.

            Krillin sighed.  He and Gohan had talked until seven or eight before falling asleep at the table.  Master Roshi had needed to pull their chairs out from under them to wake them up, and even then they didn't move.  Goku eventually hoisted them both up on his shoulders and walked them upstairs – laughing the whole time.

            Again Krillin opened his mouth to laugh, but the noise was caught in the back of his throat.  _You're…kidding, right?_ he thought as he gaped, unsure as to whether he wanted to smile or leap from the chair in shock.  For before him, Piccolo's eyes fluttered open and caught his gaze in their own cold depths.  His stomach lurched and he gasped "Piccolo!", thinking that the Namek might not recognize him after his extended sleep.  It wasn't unheard of in the medical world – as Bulma so often bragged – that the victim of such a shock might retreat into himself or herself.  And they would suffer from a short-term memory loss.  That wouldn't be bad if Piccolo was a normal, non-threatening human being.  But he was not, and for all his caution Krillin didn't seem to realize that the Namek might just think he was an enemy – and then blast him into the Afterlife.

            "Piccolo!" he exclaimed again, settling himself back down into the chair.  He didn't know he'd actually begun pushing himself off his seat until he unlocked his elbows and relaxed.  "Do you remember me?"  Krillin leaned over the Namek and frowned when there was no glimmer of recognition in his eyes.  "Do you know who I am?"

            And Piccolo's face twisted from blankness to his typical scowl.  "You're the midget I keep telling to not ask ridiculous questions."

            _Oops._  "Then you're feeling better?" Krillin asked, leaning back with a relieved sigh.

            "I suppose you can call it that, yeah."

            The monk (and numerous medical experts) would have begged to differ, unless 'feeling better' meant 'I'm awake'.  Piccolo looked like Hell warmed over, to say the least, and Krillin had to stop himself more than once from asking if he needed a senzu bean – which, in all likelihood, would not work yet.  The Namek's cheekbones were more prominent than usual, compliments of a prolonged illness.  He seemed to be washed out; his eyes were not as bright as they should have been, and even his skin was no longer its bright, lustrous green.  Yet all that notwithstanding, his eyes were still cold.

            "At least you didn't miss too much," Krillin said, shifting on the chair.  "Only two days, this time."

            "Two days without meditation."

            The monk flashed him a dirty look.  "I'd be more inclined to say two days of _extended_ meditation.  You obsess over your training, Piccolo."

            "At least I have picked something to obsess over, Krillin."  And the Namek returned his comment in the same dry tone as the human.

            The other man humphed and crossed his arms over his chest.  "You would," he muttered.  "You've got all the time in the world, it seems, to do whatever you want."

            Piccolo made a sharp noise that could have passed for a laugh.  "As of late, it seems so."

            "Sure."

            Krillin and Piccolo were content with staring at the ceiling for the next half a minute, neither one speaking.  It was a comfortable silence, and until the nagging in Krillin's brain got the best of him it was not broken.  Even then, nothing was said until Piccolo noticed his anxious squirming.

            "What are you doing?" he growled.  "You're not conducive to relaxation, you know.  Perhaps I should rid the room of you."  The Namek narrowed his eyes to mere slits, and for an instant Krillin was reminded of another demon he'd had contact with.  He started abruptly; the voice was almost right, too…if Piccolo's voice was more sibilant, it would have been an exact fit, and he would have screamed.  Kami, he'd never forget the eyes he saw only briefly, or the hissing laughter.  It was all he could do to refrain from yipping.

            "Uh," he said, his voice shaking, "I was gonna say that we gave you a senzu bean after King Kai, well, put you out.  Guess it didn't help any.  Chiaotzu brought'em in.  And Goku's doing better, at least.  He can walk around and stretch and stuff without yelling now.  You should have seen him.  Kami, he acts like he's already at full strength again."  As Krillin spoke he visibly relaxed, which Piccolo made note of.  The Namek had an idea as to why Krillin had nearly leapt through the roof, but he couldn't be sure.  As far as he knew, he didn't resemble his 'brothers' _that_ much, or so Goku had told him during one of his babbling sprees.

            _Might that be why I am awake now?  Might the psi-down be wearing off, finally?_ Piccolo thought, mentally crossing his fingers.  He closed his eyes for a moment, only to open them again when he felt someone's _ki_ touch down on the island.  Both he and Krillin simultaneously glanced at the window, each wondering what Tien could possibly want at the Kame House.

            "So," Krillin queried, "should I tell Goku and Gohan that you're up?"  He made as if to walk out the door, lifting himself off the chair and leaning towards the hallway.

            Piccolo grunted in reply.  "They already know, but suit yourself."

            Krillin nodded as he stood up.  "Then at least be prepared for a grueling question-and-answer period," he said wryly as he walked away, "because they're gonna want to check you over themselves."

            Piccolo held a groan in check as Krillin stopped suddenly in the doorway and turned around again.  "Uh, scratch that," he said quickly.  "You have about ten seconds before the hordes invade."  He dove for the chair he only just recently vacated.

            Piccolo didn't even have time to utter a curse before a black blur raced through the doorway for his bed.  And Goku didn't have enough time to call to Gohan and warn him not to jump on his mentor.

            "Piccolo!" Gohan squealed as he bounded onto the bed, somehow landing in the space between the Namek and the edge of the bed.  "You're still alive!  And you're awake!"

            "At least I _think_ so," Piccolo grumbled, contemplating smacking the boy off the edge of the bed and onto Krillin.

            Goku worked his way into the room as well, followed closely by Tien, to Piccolo's surprise.  _How did he know to come?_ he thought, frowning.  At the Namek's curious gaze, Tien tapped a finger to his right temple and smirked.

            _He will regret that._  Piccolo gritted his teeth and glared at the triclops.  "You've been monitoring me," he stated.

            "And you needed it, too," the man retorted.  "You're not exactly someone we can leave unattended when ill, Piccolo."

            The Namek growled.  "I thought you wiser than that.  I'm quite capable of taking care of myself."

            Tien bit back his reply, knowing that Piccolo would likely try to throttle him if he asked how he would have obtained senzu beans.

            Gohan was the one to break the tension in the room.  "Do you want to go fishing with me and dad later, Piccolo?  We're going swimming in the ocean an' all, and it's gonna be so fun!  Will you will you will you?" he asked, bouncing on the bed with a wide grin plastered to his face.  "You'll love it, honest!"

            Goku grinned at the stricken look on Piccolo's face, as the Namek wordlessly pleaded with the man to get him out of this predicament!  "We won't spar," he laughed.  "You still have to heal.  But you can hold a fishing pole just fine, I think!"  He ducked his head at Piccolo's glare.  Sometimes the Namek was just so easy to tease.  He just couldn't help himself.  It also helped that Piccolo was in no condition to make the attempt to harm him.  Goku's grin grew wider.  All the better for him.

            _Damn you, Goku,_ Piccolo thought sullenly.  "Kid, if it will shut you up, I'll go," he growled.

            "Yeah!" Gohan whooped.  He slid off the bed and danced around Goku and Tien in the center of the room.

            "You're so kind," Krillin said, resting his chin in one hand.

            _At the rate I am going, I will be spending the rest of my life glaring at these humans.  And Saiyans.  They should know by now that I do not find any pleasure in making a fool out of myself for their benefit._  Piccolo sighed.

            Goku's demeanor turned serious after a few minutes.  "Do you know how close you came to dying again, Piccolo?" the Saiyan asked.  "You're really lucky, you know.  Your tug-of-war stopped, and personally I don't know how.  Perhaps the gods are watching over you."

            Tien nodded wordlessly as Goku spoke.  Kami, but it had been close.  He _had_ been monitoring Piccolo for the last two days, and he knew somewhat more than the others what had been going on inside the Namek's mind, even in unconsciousness.  He had seen Daimao personally years ago, when Pilaf released him from his 'eternal' prison, and he still awoke in a cold sweat some nights because of the demon.  Piccolo had the curse to see his father's work in his dreams.

            Never before had the triclops been so proud of his psychic accomplishments and stealth, for it was only because of years and years of hard work that Piccolo hadn't caught him hovering in his unconscious mind.  He was also more than a little grateful he had the training of an assassin, whose skills included the classic poker face.  So Tien was able to meet Piccolo's gaze without flushing or lowering his eyes.

            From what he had seen and felt in his silent watch, there was no logical explanation for the sudden cessation of the _ki_-drain condition.  Unless, perhaps, the senzu beans had finally been able to counteract the siphon?  He wasn't sure.  He was no medical genius, but the idea sounded feasible.  Ah, but what would happen if the newly-reached equilibrium was upset once more?  Tien was certain the results would be disastrous.

            "Watching over?  More like staring at," Krillin quipped, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.  "Poor Piccolo's been a target for just about everything in the galaxy."

            Behind him, Goku snickered, and farther back, Tien wore an expression of concentration, seemingly centered on him.  _Interesting,_ Piccolo thought while he pondered the many ways of torturing the two men.  _I wonder what he is thinking about._  Gohan stopped his wild gyrations and joined his father and sparring partner in full-blown laughter.

            Piccolo scowled at Krillin and Goku before reaching out to Tien with his mind.  No sooner than he did so he yelped, clutching his temples and hissing slightly.  The warriors turned their full attention to him, afraid that something was happening that they couldn't stop.  They might not survive a spontaneous _ki_ burst from the Namek; the noncombatants downstairs certainly would not.  And anything that even _remotely_ resembled a mental attack would put them on edge, especially Tien.

            "Are you all right, Piccolo?" Gohan asked quickly.

            "Fine, kid," the Namek grunted.

            "What was _that_ all about?" Tien asked as he frowned.  He crossed his arms in front of his chest and gave the Namek his best outward appearance of strength, when inside he felt like he would melt into the floor.

            "I tried talking to you.  Apparently the psi-down is still working."

            _And your mind is still injured,_ Tien added.

            Piccolo winced, causing another wave of panic to sweep through the gathered warriors.  "Sorry," the triclops said, blinking in sympathy.

            "Can we get you anything, Piccolo?" Gohan asked.

            "Some painkillers?" Krillin asked.

            "Water?" Goku suggested.

            "Fresh bandages?" Krillin added.

            "Marshmallows?" Gohan asked, thinking back to the time when he was training to fight the Saiyans.  Piccolo had offered to roast marshmallows with him on more than one occasion.  He'd felt better then…might it work for his mentor now?

            "That's enough!" Piccolo roared, startling them all.  "I'm not that fragile, and I'm not going to die.  Stop treating me this delicately!"  A light glinted off his eyes, illuminating them for a brief moment.  Anger surged in their depths, and more than one warrior had to catch himself before he took a step back.

            He caught himself before he could do anything else, though, and the Namek took a deep breath and exhaled hard.  "I don't plan on dying any time soon," he began again.  "Don't act like it.  It's not going to do anything other than piss me off."

            Tien's eyes bugged out of his head.  Was that…no.  Piccolo never apologized, even roundabout.  Or did he?  He sighed and shook his head.  The green man was an enigma.

            Krillin flinched away from Piccolo.  Kami, but the demon startled him.  It almost seemed like he was going to leap out of the bed at them.  Though his very next thought was along the lines of physical capability; if _he_ had been lying in bed for what was collectively about a week, his legs would have been jelly.  He'd never get enough muscle power for the initial push.  Of course his coordination would return after a few minutes, but not while lying down.

            Goku blinked and thought about how great a difference this was from the Piccolo of eight years ago.  _Eight?  Eight years?_ he thought.  _I've known him for so long, fought with him for most of that time, too.  Wow.  That's a long time to know a guy and yet still not _know_ him.  Geez.  I've known him longer than Gohan's been alive.  If he hadn't changed, we would all be dead now._  And secretly, that thought scared the Saiyan more than his battle with Frieza.  He shuddered.

            Gohan merely shrugged it off.  Piccolo was always Piccolo.  He always acted like this.  Nothing was different.  "Hey, Piccolo," he said after a few minutes had passed, "you didn't forget about fishing did you?"

            And oblivious to the stares of the other three men in the room, the Namek actually chuckled.  "No, kid.  If I can get out there, I'll do it."  _Let's just hope I'm not getting myself into something over my head again,_ he added in his thoughts.

* * * * *

*twitches*  That was the longest chapter I have ever written, and I don't mean word-wise.  I hope I have more luck with the next one.  Thanks for sticking with me.  *takes a hammer to her writer's block*

~Dreamwraith


	21. Chapter Twenty One

Dynamite?  Does it work better than a mallet? *laughs and ponders the thought*

**Disclaimer:** I do not own DBZ, and I desperately wish that I did not own a writer's block.

**Chapter Twenty-One**

            _Is it possible to meditate with your eyes open?_ Piccolo thought sourly as he glared at the three warriors sitting around him in various states of relaxation.  Yes, three.  Krillin had come along as well, arguing with the Namek that the other two (or at least Goku) wouldn't know what to do if he had another fit.  Piccolo had smirked; from what he was able to hear at the time, Goku had screamed 'water-water-water-water' and ran out the door.  Some brave warrior he was.

            "Come _on_, Piccolo!" Gohan squealed, bouncing across the sand with a fishing pole.  "You have to drop that end in the water and let it stay there!  Else you won't catch anything!"

            "I _know_ how to fish, kid," he growled in reply.  "Nail and a few others used to fish off the stepping-stone islands on Namek.  There is no need to explain the activity."

            He had reason to be cross.  Goku had insisted that he wear something warm, like a blanket, and had proceeded to wrap him in one before practically carrying him down the stairs and out the door.  Had he not been so (and he hesitated to think it) weak, Son Goku would not have been able to touch him.  But between himself and Gohan – who giggled the whole time – they managed to subdue him.  "Well, we got you out," Goku had said, shrugging.  And then he unceremoniously dumped him on the sand.

            Oh, he would get him for that.

            And perhaps Tien as well, who had simply sighed and moved off to the side to clear the way for the Saiyan and his thrashing burden.

            The things he had to do today.  Such as escaping from these crazed men and their idea of fun.  Piccolo growled again, clutching the blanket around himself.  He would never have let any of the humans touch him while he was still conscious, but no one had thought to give him something to use as a shirt, to cover the bandages and prevent grit from getting in the closing wounds.  _Damn.  Then I'm stuck with this blanket until I can materialize something._  The Namek was fairly sure he would suffer no ill effects from using 'magic', but he was not willing to try.  It hadn't hurt him before, when he was in the throes of a fever, so it should not affect him.  Then again, that was a few days ago.  He did not feel like taking that chance just yet.

            "Piccolo, you're not going to catch anything if you don't put the worm in!" Gohan exclaimed, baiting his hook and dropping it into the water.  "Bottom feeding's the best.  You can catch the biggest fish there!"

            The green-skinned fighter gritted his teeth, but he couldn't stay angry with Gohan for long.  The boy was practically his own, after all, and what father could stay so angry with his own son?  _My own,_ Piccolo thought, a bitter smile gracing his face as he baited his own hook and let it fall.  _He'd pitch a fit if he could see me now._

            Goku's stick suddenly bent in the middle, nearly doubled over into the water.  "Hey, I've got one!" the Saiyan yelled gleefully.  "And it feels like it's a big – hey!"  The fish on the other end of the pole gave it a mighty jerk, and the warrior tumbled into the water.

            "So much for our dinner," Krillin laughed, slapping his free hand to his thigh.  "Will there be anything left when Goku's done with it?"

            "I hope so, Krillin," Gohan replied, staring intently at the surface of the water.  "I'm getting kinda hungry."

            "You just ate!"

            "An hour ago!" the boy protested.  "And it was cold!"

            Without any warning, a sudden geyser erupted from the surface of the water, showering the three warriors.  Oblivious to the startled curses from Krillin and Piccolo, Goku emerged from the water with an enormous fish in tow, grinning from ear to ear.  "Anybody hungry?" he asked as he lowered himself to the beach.

            Piccolo shook his head at the man's childish antics.  How _did_ he become involved with these people, anyway?

            "Not for that!" Krillin exclaimed.  He swiped his hand across his eyes to brush away the water, but for naught.  The instant he released dinner, Goku shook himself off and sprayed water over the group again.

            "Son!" Piccolo growled, shielding his eyes and whipping his pole out of the water.  He hadn't counted on Goku acting so crazy, but then again, this was Goku he was thinking about, and he was generally unpredictable.  Especially with him.  The last time he had felt the need to analyze him, Piccolo had been lying at the bottom of a crater and dying.  And he knew where _that_ had gotten him.

            "Oh, sorry, Piccolo," Goku said.  "Didn't mean to do that."

            "You're hopeless," the Namek spat back.

            _Quite right_.

            "What…"  Piccolo turned the glare he held Goku in into a frown as he darted his eyes from human to Saiyan.  Someone had said _something_, he was sure of it.  He wasn't hearing things.  Though he was not too reassured when his gaze was met by three equally confused stares.

            "What do you mean, what?" Krillin asked, raising his eyebrows.

            "Why did you say – "  Piccolo stopped when it became apparent that neither Gohan nor Krillin knew what he was talking about.  And of course Goku wouldn't talk about himself.  "Never mind."  He composed his features into a scowl.  This wasn't like him at all.  His mind was more disciplined than that.  And there was no way in _hell_ he could blame Nail for speaking up.  He hadn't heard the warrior once since they had fused.

            _Piccolo's losing his mind,_ Krillin thought as the Namek turned his attention back to the water.  He glanced down briefly at his own fishing pole when Gohan caught his eye by waving his hand.  He frowned at the concerned expression on the boy's face.

            "What's going on?" Gohan mouthed.

            Krillin shrugged.  "Good question," he mouthed back.

            "Are you all right?" Goku asked the Namek, blinking at the green warrior.

            "Considering how different our definitions of 'all right' are," Piccolo snapped, glancing up at Goku, "take a guess."

            "Um, I'd say yes," the Saiyan replied, scratching the back of his head nervously.

            _Weakling scum.  It can be done easily._

            Piccolo narrowed his eyes upon hearing the same voice speak up, but Goku took it personally.  "Or not?" he added weakly.

            "Just shut up, Goku," the Namek growled.  "You've already stuck your foot in your mouth.  Don't push it down your throat."

            _Is that all you're going to do?_  The unknown speaker sounded petulant, and more than a little disappointed.  "Yes.  Now leave me alone," Piccolo said, returning his attention and red-hot gaze to the gentle waves in the ocean.

            "But we're not saying anything!" the Saiyan protested.

            Piccolo did not respond to the other man's plea.  He had problems of his own to deal with.  One of which gave him the impression of two figures huddling around a third, and for some reason he was not sure of, they were laughing.  And the laughter was not pleasant.

            The monstrosity Goku had caught that afternoon (or rather, that had caught him) was more than adequate to feed the two Saiyans, four humans, and the shapeshifter.  Between Chi-Chi and Krillin, the fish was diced and cooked in ten minutes, and served with potatoes and carrots in three.  It was a superhuman effort, but worth every minute of it.  How they managed to fit themselves around the table was a mystery.

            And how Gohan had managed to convince Piccolo to please, pretty please join him for dinner was an even greater enigma.

            But nonetheless, Piccolo was seated – _squashed _– between Gohan and Goku, where he could not ignore the look of pity shot across the table from Krillin.  _I suppose it comes from having to sit between the resident black holes,_ he thought, taking a sip of water from the glass Master Roshi had set before him.

            Therefore he missed how the conversation had turned to him, and discussing what was to be done with him.

            "…one more senzu bean, if you can.  Other than that, there shouldn't be anything else.  Wouldn't you agree, Piccolo?" Master Roshi's scratchy voice interrupted his thoughts, and the Namek blinked once before realizing he had been addressed.

            As the collective gaze of the table settled on him, Piccolo nodded and took another sip of water, letting his thoughts drift.  _There must be some reason why the internal _ki_-war stopped so suddenly,_ he reflected.  _I am not healed yet, nor are the larger wounds closing, so why?  It is a point to ponder, no doubt, and I wonder if I'll find out._

_            Sooner than I think._

_            Much sooner._

_            And why must Son Goku be destroyed?_

            The Namek was forced back into reality by a light tap on his shoulder.  "Piccolo, are you all right?" came Goku's voice, and the Namek turned his head and found himself three inches from the Saiyan's face.  He recoiled violently and very nearly fell out of his chair.  "What is it?"

            "Nothing," Piccolo snapped, furious with Goku for moving so close and furious with himself for not noticing.  The concerned expression on the Saiyan's face did little to help the situation, either.  "Don't bother yourself with my thoughts.

            "You've been staring at the table for the past five minutes."

            Piccolo said nothing in reply, simply glaring at the other man until he shrugged and looked away.  Out of the corner of his eye he watched Krillin drop his gaze hastily to his plate and Chi-Chi shoot him an irritated frown.  _These humans have no respect for those with more power,_ he thought angrily, and then berated himself.  _They are not built for battle.  They are lucky they have survived even this long._

            He paid no attention to his surroundings and instead began a simple meditation, neither deep nor involved, but one that would serve only as a relaxation.  He watched as his vision clouded over, signaling the onset of the slightly comatose state he was dropping himself into.  _Finally,_ he breathed, _I shall not be bothered._  The demon part of his heritage was firmly against a meditation that was not combat- or training-based, but his Namekian blood won out.  Peace it was, for a while.

            White and lavender mist, swirling, twirling, dancing in small eddies at his feet.  Waves, water and light, the warm sand below him, heating his body and clearing his mind.  Wind, a mild breeze, whistling around his ears and antennae, softly caressing his skin.  Mellow, bittersweet, and clear.  Silky and bright.  A euphoria he could never have while conscious was his alone in his mind.

            Wait.

            In a heartbeat, a moment full to burst, redness dropped over the serenity like a cloudburst, a flare of heat in his most secluded of havens.  _What?_ he exclaimed, the color dripping along the edges of his vision like a viscous liquid.  Almost like…no.  He would not say it.  He would not think it.

            Daimao's leering grin, though he had never before seen his sire, was felt.  _He_ knew what it was.  Of course he would know.  He was a Demon Lord, and his power was established through its loss.

            _What is going on?_

            This had never before happened to him in a meditative state, and Piccolo pulled himself out of his 'calming' exercise with a gasp and a curse.  _I will never be free of his shadow._  "Damn him," the Namek growled loudly, slamming his fist down on the edge of the table.  Only Goku's quick reflexes saved it from being overturned.

            "Piccolo, what happened?" Gohan gasped, staring at his mentor.  Across the way, Krillin inched back from the table, in case the green man was going to upset another piece of furniture.  "Is something wrong?"

            The grimace froze on Piccolo's face.  "I…am going to get some rest.  Do not bother me."  He rose from the table in one fluid motion that had more than one pair of eyebrows raised in surprise, and walked away.  His footsteps were heard on the stairs not three seconds later, heading up to his room.

            Krillin exhaled forcefully and shuddered.  "I might have missed something here, but what on Earth was _that_ all about?  Isn't he supposed to be the sane one?"

            Oolong leapt down from his stool and snorted.  "Sane?  He's never _sane._  He's just less _in_sane than the rest of you."

            Tien shook his head and blinked.  "I'd like to know how he was able to get up like that and walk away.  Correct me if I'm wrong, but injured warriors don't move gracefully."

            "But don't forget," Gohan added, "that he's _Piccolo_."

            Goku nearly smiled at the open admiration showing on his only son's face.  The Namek was the boy's other father, or so it seemed.  Good for Piccolo, that someone loved him like that.  It calmed him.

            But there were other, more pressing matters at hand than how Piccolo had changed.  Why had Piccolo jerked like that?  The Saiyan figured he'd been meditating – heck, Piccolo always did that to deaden himself to his surroundings.  But something _must_ have happened during his meditation for him to have jumped like that.  What that something was, Goku doubted he would ever know.

            _Tell me, if and when he wakes up, if anything seems different with him, Goku, Krillin,_ Kami had said two days before.

            Goku risked a glance at the ceiling, toward the room where he knew Piccolo would be sitting.  The Namek's _ki_ was stationary, so he hadn't tried to fly away.  And ignoring the speculation by Krillin and Gohan as to why Piccolo wouldn't want to finish his water, he said to himself, "I think I should go pay Kami a visit."

            Tien followed the Saiyan's gaze and sighed.  He would be leaving soon, to tell Yamcha and Chiaotzu that Piccolo had snapped out of unconsciousness, but he would not be leaving him unmonitored.  Something about the gleam in his eyes when he had gasped…

            The triclops knew not if Piccolo's recovery would bring more harm than good.

* * * * *

Sorry it took so long, readers and reviewers.  As is the case with all students, who have been thrown back into class after summer, I have found that it is easier to come up with ideas in Physics than it is in front of my computer.  Thanks for waiting.  I appreciate it.

~Dreamwraith


	22. Chapter Twenty Two

**Disclaimer:** If I owned it, I could draw it better.

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

            Staring down at the darkening Earth, Kami felt Goku's _ki_ surge as he approached the Lookout.  "Popo," he said to the djinn who stood behind him, "would you be kind enough to bring me two glasses of water?  I feel I will be talking for quite some time today."

            "Yes, Kami," Mr. Popo replied, turning away from the Guardian.  "Would you like me to leave them on the table for you?"

            "Please," the Namek said.  His attention returned to Goku's _ki_.  He seemed to be worried about something, and Kami had a fairly good idea of what Goku was worrying about.  There was little on the planet that concerned the Saiyan anyway, and Piccolo was among that minority.

            It was well past sunset now, and Goku had probably snuck off the island to make this trip.  The Guardian then chuckled.  He was only sneaking away from Oolong, Roshi, and Chi-Chi.  Everyone else currently inside (or around) could sense _ki_, and his departure would have been keenly felt and perhaps marked as unusual behavior.

            With a burst of _ki_, Goku landed next to Kami on the tiled floor.

            "Greetings, Goku," the aging Namek said, turning his head toward the Saiyan.  "What brings you here?"

            The Saiyan sighed.  "It's about Piccolo," he told the Guardian, who nodded wordlessly.  "You told me and Krillin to let you know if anything seemed different about him.  Something happened at dinner today, and I don't know what it was.  Maybe you can help."  Goku glanced up at Kami, his eyes troubled.

            A cold blast of wind rushed across the Lookout and past the two men.  Kami did not feel it much, due to his ancestry and a lifetime of living with the wind, but Goku shivered and broke out into goosebumps.  Kami noticed this.  "Would you care to tell me about it inside, out of the wind?"

            "Sure."

            Within the span of a few minutes the Guardian of the Earth and the planet's strongest defender were seated in what could have passed for a Namekian dining room, with only a small table and four chairs.  Two glasses of water were already set on the table, one on each end of the circle, apparently for the two men.

            "Now, Goku, tell me what is wrong."  Kami quelled his rising panic when the man gulped.  Anything that could make the strongest fighter in this quadrant of the universe gulp could _not_ be good.

            "Well, he woke up earlier today, and me n'Gohan n'Krillin took him fishing," and here Kami's lips quirked up in a smile which soon faded, "and he kept looking around like someone was saying something too quiet for the words to be heard.  And then during dinner he was meditating, I think, and he jumped out of it and almost knocked the table over.  I don't know why.  He's never done that before."

            The Namek shook his head and sighed.  "No, he has not," he agreed, taking a sip of water from his glass.

            "Do you know what's wrong with him?"

            "To be honest, Goku, I am not sure.  I have my suspicions, but I will not be able to see if I am correct unless Piccolo lets me into his mind.  And that surely will not happen."

            "Oh."  Goku reached for his own water and downed it all in one gulp.  "Does it have something to do with what you said before, about him being vulnerable and all?"

            The Guardian nodded wordlessly, a gesture not meant to be reassuring.  And Goku was _not_ reassured.  "It would also mean that the psi-down has almost completely worn off.  Perhaps it was created to run its course in a set length of time."

            "That's a good thing, right?"

            "It is, Goku.  For him.  I will not need contact with him to enter his mind."  Kami heaved a deep sigh.  "I fear he will not let me, though."  He then glanced over at the Saiyan, who looked as though he was hanging on every word.  "Would you be able to find out what is bothering him?"

            Two eyebrows shot up, and Goku nearly fell out of the chair.  "Me?" he squawked.  "He talks more with Gohan than he does with me!"

            Kami chuckled.  "Son Goku, from what I have seen and heard, he trusts you more than both of you know.  Especially himself.  You have nothing to fear from him now."  His smile faded at the mention of time.  _Now,_ he thought.  _If something happens to Piccolo now, our situation would be very desperate indeed._

            "In that case, I should get back to the Kame House," Goku said simply, standing up and stretching before pushing his chair in.  "Chi-Chi'll kill me if she finds out I left to come here.  Thanks for listening, Kami.  Good night!"  The man waved as he walked to the edge of the Lookout and dove off it head-first.

            "Why didn't you tell him the whole thing, Kami?" came Mr. Popo's voice from behind him.

            Kami heaved another deep sigh.  "I couldn't do it, Popo, because he would never have believed me.  If I told him I feared that Piccolo was reverting, Goku and the others would accuse me of harboring hatred against him."

            "But you don't hate him, do you?"

            "No, Popo," he said softly, "I don't.  As much as the boy frustrates me, I could never bring myself to actively hate him.  Not as he is now.  But if what I fear comes to pass, I will have no choice."

            Neither the djinn nor the Namek wished to break the silence that followed, as uncomfortable as it was.  For Kami's last phrase echoed in the stillness: _I will have no choice…_

            Goku woke up early the next morning to talk with Piccolo, taking care to not wake Chi-Chi.  It would be their last day on the island, because he was strong enough to fly Chi-Chi home now without falling.  He eased himself off the couch as quietly as he could and opened his mind to the _ki_ around him.

            The Saiyan sighed as he stood up.  Piccolo was not upstairs.  On the contrary, he was outside on the beach somewhere.  Goku wasn't too worried about that; his _ki_ seemed normal enough, and it wasn't fluctuating.  It actually felt at peace, resting, and the man smiled.  Piccolo was peaceful so rarely, at least from what he'd seen of the other man.  In fact, he seemed almost a bit _too_ peaceful.  _Rabble-rouser?  I think not.  But so close…_ A mischievous smirk formed on Goku's face, and his eyes gleamed.  _This could be fun._

            The man tip-toed his way out the door, taking great pains to make sure that the door did not slam or that the floorboards did not creak.  And all without using _ki_, too.  Goku had never thought it could be such a challenge before this day.  It took him four minutes to cross a room and walk across a porch, all in the name of stealth.  It wasn't even foolproof; Piccolo had _extremely_ good hearing, and any noise at all, even one Goku himself might not be able to hear, would alert the Namek to his plan.

            If anyone could have seen him, they would have thought he had lost his mind; the Saiyan lifted each foot almost waist-high in his care, both arms bent at the elbows and held out for balance.  His head was ducked to his chest, and his chest was puffed out with the air he had sucked in and was now holding.  Goku could see it all now…_Good Kami, Son,_ Piccolo would bellow, _what is wrong with you?_  The Saiyan then frowned as he scooted off the porch and onto the sand.  Well, Piccolo wouldn't say exactly that, but it was the main point, so did it really matter?

            Goku peeked his head around the corner of the Kame House and spotted the Namek under the tree, seated in the sand.  Seated?  The Saiyan did a double-take.  Yep, he wasn't floating today.  And he didn't have his cape on, either.  Not that he blamed him.  Piccolo had been through enough, and he probably didn't have the energy to spare.  But he _was_ holding the lotus position, so it couldn't be all that bad.

            Goku grinned.  This would be a piece of cake!  Piccolo wasn't even looking in his direction, and he hadn't given any indication of hearing him, so he was still undiscovered.  And he planned to keep it that way.  He slowly crept up behind the unsuspecting Namek, stopping a mere hand's breadth away from him, and just as slowly, carefully, crouched down until he was level with him.  _Kami, he's gonna kill me, _Goku thought.  He opened his mouth, stifling a laugh, and shrieked as loud as he possibly could: "LOOK OUT!"

            Later, Goku would tell Krillin and Gohan what he had seen, after the furor had died down.  Somehow, he didn't know _how_, Piccolo managed to leap roughly four feet into the air from his lotus position on the ground – without the use of _ki_ – and landed with his right hand outstretched, sparking with _ki_ gathered in a panic.  And the look on his face…Goku could not say if he had ever seen the Namek actually shocked into speechlessness, but the expression he had now was definitely that.  How he wished he had brought a camera with him.  The picture alone would have been worth a trip to the emergency room.

            The Saiyan laughed outright at Piccolo, holding his stomach with one hand and pointing at him with the other.  "Gotcha, Piccolo!  You should see your face!  You look like you're going to keel over any second now!"

            Piccolo quickly recovered from the shock.  "What the _hell_ do you think you're doing, Goku?" he roared, reluctantly lowering his hand and allowing the _ki_ to dissipate.  "Are you that anxious to die again?"  Then he winced, the pain from stretching and breaking open healing wounds hitting him.

            Goku was still convulsing with laughter.  "But it was worth it!  You outta lighten up, Piccolo."

            "I will _not_ 'lighten up'," Piccolo growled back, "and unless you wish to die, you will not do that again."

            "Okay," the Saiyan replied cheerily.  He sounded sincere enough, but one look in his eyes and his ploy was ruined.  Goku never had been very good at disguising his emotions.  So it was obvious to the green-skinned warrior when the Saiyan grew serious.  "But I do want to talk with you, Piccolo."

            When the Namek made no attempt to leave, and simply folded his arms in front of him, Goku took it as a sign to start talking.  "I was wondering, how did you get up so quick yesterday night?  How did you make it look so easy?"

            Piccolo snorted and sank back down into the sand.  "The eye of the beholder, Goku."

            The Saiyan made no attempt to hide his confusion.  "What is _that_ supposed to mean?" he asked.

            "Do you seriously believe it was easy?" Piccolo growled.  "In case you haven't noticed, I am not yet healed," and here Goku finally noticed faded streaks of violet near the edges of the white cloth, and he shuddered.  The marks looked fresh.  His Saiyan mind also registered that it would probably hurt, too, and he bit back his offer of sparring.

            "Oh," he said.  "Well, then, I'll get back to you when you're better about a spar."

            The Namek humphed and closed his eyes, signaling that his half of the discussion had come to an end.

            "Me and Chi-Chi an' Gohan are going home today, too, Piccolo," Goku added, wondering when the other warrior would make the attempt to throttle him, and then continued.  "I was wondering if you'd like to come."

            For a moment, the Saiyan thought Piccolo hadn't heard him, but the other man opened his eyes again and growled.  "Your wife would not appreciate it, Goku, and I have no desire to meet with this frying pan you so fondly speak of."

            Goku laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his head.  "Oh, yeah, sorry, forgot about that."

            The response came as a grunt, and Goku bit back a sigh.  Piccolo was _definitely_ done talking now.  "Well, I'll be up here again tomorrow, and I'll bring Gohan with me," he said, turning around and walking back to the Kame House.  "Just let us know if you need anything, Piccolo."  And Goku climbed up the stairs and through the door, leaving him alone under the tree.

            Piccolo cracked open an eye when he felt Goku's _ki_ enter the house.  _Good,_ he thought.  _He's gone._

            _Because I have an attitude problem._

_            Feh.  Attitude problem.  At least my control over _ki_ is returning, though slow enough.  I didn't lose control of that _ki_ ball.  And if Goku hadn't been suppressing his _ki_, I would have caught him, too._

            Piccolo sighed in relief.  He had been away from the world for far too long, his senses numbed and muddled.  It was infuriating, not being able to reach out for Gohan and the others, to make sure they were all still alive and well.  It was even worse trying to feel them through the fog that his thoughts had become.  He was glad, truly _glad_, that the psi-down was wearing off.  Although he had probably given Goku a good scare himself when he'd whirled around with a _ki_ ball.  Hell, he hadn't expected it himself.

            _Of course not._

            That voice was becoming aggravating.

            The Namek growled to himself as he stood up, taking care to brush the sand off his gi pants.  If whoever it was did not stop harassing him within the next few days, he would go to Kami about it.

            The jade-skinned warrior shuddered to himself and bit back an involuntary snarl.  He _hated_ dealing with Kami.  And that would make it all the worse for him, when the Guardian saw that he needed help dealing with a voice in his mind.

            What if it was Nail?  Or even some other Namek, who had taken to driving him up the wall?  His 'uncle' would never let him live it down if the voice belonged to either of them.  And yes, he did mean 'uncle'.  Kami could call him 'son' or 'nephew', because he was technically both, but it did not mean he would call the old man his father.  It couldn't be farther from the truth.  Piccolo had no real father.

            "Fine," Piccolo spat, closing his eyes and leaning back against the tree.  "If that is what it will take to rid me of my overactive imagination, then so be it.  But if something is searching my thoughts…"

            _That's the spirit._

            _You had better come up with a damn good explanation for yourself._

_            No better than yours._

Gohan's laughter was heard from inside the kitchen, and Piccolo smiled in spite of himself.  At least life was finally returning to some semblance of normalcy.

* * * * *

To be honest with you, it wasn't the dynamite that helped.  It was lots and lots of caffeine.  And more than a little help from the Matrix Reloaded soundtrack.  Mmm, chocolate.

So I should apologize for not being able to update.  My concentration is shot from school, and I refuse to write if I can't do it justice.  I should have the next chapter out after the weekend, but who knows?  Only the Ding-Dongs and Pepsi can tell…

~Dreamwraith


	23. Chapter Twenty Three

At the rate I'm going, the "creepy" part will be out in time for Halloween.  Hah.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own DBZ.  If I did, the Nameks would have a much bigger role in the whole story line, and the non-Saiyans would not fade out of existence.  How's that for wishful thinking?

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

            _Semblance of normalcy?_  Piccolo snorted in amusement at his thoughts.  _I'm beginning to think there is no such thing as normal._

            The voice that had been pestering him for the last two days had quieted down after he threatened to go to Kami with it, and he wasn't sure if he should be relieved or concerned.  At least the old man had been helpful for once – even if he hadn't meant to.

            The Namek stood on the beach outside of the Kame House by the same tree Goku had startled him under.  Startled, not scared.  Piccolo was rarely openly afraid of anything.  He could feel Goku's and Gohan's _ki_ as they headed for the island, as well as a third person with them – in all likelihood, Chi-Chi.  His neutral expression twisted into a deep scowl.  Kami, how he disliked that woman.  She was _always_ getting on his nerves, pushing him to the limits of his patience.

            Piccolo blinked.  Well, there was nothing he could really do about it now.  If she was already on her way over, it would be fruitless to ask the other two to take her home, especially if they were staying for lunch.  "It could be worse, I suppose," he growled softly, keeping his eyes on the clouds.

            "You can say that again," came Krillin's voice from behind him.

            "Why is that?"

            The monk came forward and stood beside him.  "At least she won't be making a scene in front of Gohan again.  Goku talked to her about it."

            Piccolo cast a startled glance at Krillin, who kept his gaze on the waves.  The human wasn't telepathic, so he couldn't have pulled the information from his brain.  But how did he know what he was thinking?

            Krillin felt the change in the Namek's _ki_ and chuckled, causing him to humph.  "I know what you're thinking, Piccolo," he said wryly.  "It's not all that hard to figure out, you know, when you're standing out here by yourself and staring off in the direction Goku and his family are coming from with a scowl on your face."  He even dared a laugh when Piccolo tensed up.  "That," he added, "and the fact that you're practically broadcasting your feelings with your _ki_.  I'm surprised Gohan hasn't sped up yet to find out why you're so upset."

            The Namek forcefully exhaled the breath he had unknowingly held in.  "Is it that obvious?" he asked softly, almost to the level where Krillin had to strain to hear him.

            "It is to me," the other man replied in an equally quiet voice, aware that Piccolo did not want this conversation to be publicized.  "You've let your guard down a bit since you've been here, Piccolo.  I know I can't read minds or anything like that, but it hasn't been that hard to read your facial expressions and stuff recently."

            The green man grunted and folded his arms in front of his chest.  "You should not be looking for anything from me, human."

            "It's hard not to, when you're a convalescent in my house.  You already know we're all keeping an eye on you."

            "Feh.  You would not be able to do anything if something happened to me."

            Krillin said nothing.  That much was true; Piccolo was currently the second-strongest being on the planet, and there would be little he would be able to do if the Namek ever decided to go berserk.  Then again, it was good advice to never contradict someone who could pound him into a lifeless pulp.

            Piccolo smirked inwardly.  The monk was not that hard to read either, and his face was saying plain as day that he was contemplating why he should not piss him off.  On occasion, Krillin could be quite intelligent.

            The uncomfortable silence was broken when Gohan's cheerful greeting was shouted from the sky.  "Hi, Piccolo!  Hi, Krillin!"

            "Hey, kiddo!  How's it going?" the midget shouted back, the corners of his mouth twisting up when he saw Piccolo's scowl.

            The boy dropped to the beach from some height in the sky and grinned.  "Pretty good," he replied.  "Hey Piccolo, are you feeling better yet?  Dad really wants to spar with you, and maybe me and you too, Krillin."  His eyes darted from one fighter to the other.

            "Give me a few more days, kid.  I'll beat both you _and_ your dad."  From the half-amused look that now graced Piccolo's face, neither Krillin nor Gohan could tell if the Namek was kidding or not.

            "Aw, quit kidding around, Piccolo," Gohan said after a minute, smiling broadly.  "Of course you'll beat me, 'cuz you're stronger than me by a lot, but my dad?"

            "Sure, kid.  No problem."

            The Namek chuckled silently when Gohan and Krillin glanced at each other and shrugged, probably thinking he'd lost his mind.  _Close enough, it seems,_ he thought.

            "Heh, do you think it's time for lunch yet?" the monk laughed weakly, and earned stares from both Piccolo and his sparring partner.

            "Uh, Krillin, Mom and Dad haven't even landed yet."  Gohan blinked before shooting his mentor an exasperated frown.  When the boy looked away again, Piccolo screwed his own face into a frown.  Was Gohan picking up on what he himself was feeling?

            He gritted his teeth as the demi-Saiyan began talking about what he hoped they would be having for lunch.  Blast.  Having a mental bond with a child was certainly _not_ a good way to maintain one's privacy.  Ah, well, it couldn't be helped now.  Whether either of them liked it or not, they were stuck with each other until one of them figured out how to break that bond.

            And who said either of them wanted that?

            As tough as he was with the kid, Piccolo knew he would miss having him around, miss the quiet knowledge he wordlessly shared with him while they stared at the late evening sky, the sunrises they had counted together, their sparring matches…

            "Hey, Piccolo!" Goku called from somewhere above his head, disrupting his thoughts.  "Still here?"

            The Namek snorted.  "Obviously."

            The Saiyan descended slowly with his wife in his arms.  "Okay!" he exclaimed, a goofy grin plastered to his face.  In contrast, Chi-Chi was doing an admirable job of hiding her displeasure.  The result?  She looked like she had been sucking on a lemon.

            Goku greeted Krillin similarly and set Chi-Chi down on the sand.

            Gohan scooted to the Namek's side and discreetly tugged at his cape.

            _Yeah, kid?_

            "Are you all right?" the boy whispered.

            _I'll be fine, _Piccolo told him.  As an afterthought, he added, _I'm going to have to teach you how to speak back one of these days, kid.  It would ensure that our conversations remained private._

            "I'd like that."  And Gohan positively beamed when Piccolo moved a hand to his head and tousled the unruly mop of hair.

            "I'm surprised your mom let you keep your hair this long," the Namek remarked, watching as Chi-Chi walked towards the Kame House with Goku and Krillin in tow.

            Gohan fingered one of his longer locks of hair after Piccolo removed his hand.  "I don't really like it short like that.  It makes me look like a mushroom."  Then he grinned.  "Besides, can you imagine what it'll look like when I turn into a Super Saiyan?"

            Piccolo grunted.  "Kid, your hair is hardly longer than your dad's – his just stands on end.  It won't be that impressive."

            "But if it takes me another year to become strong enough to be a Super Saiyan, it'll be long enough that I'll look like I was struck by lightning!"  Gohan was excited enough that he started bouncing, and Piccolo sighed.

            "You're reading too much about science, kid," the Namek said, rolling his eyes at the boy's impish smile.  "You need to get your lessons pounded into you."

            "If it's me and you and Dad, it'll be fun," Gohan replied happily without stopping his activity.

            _Fun,_ Piccolo mused.  _He wants to make up for lost time.  Though why he is so hyper, I'd like to know.  Perhaps he had too much sugar before he came.  Feh.  I hope he drives Goku and Chi-Chi crazy.  _The Namek frowned briefly.  _No, Goku already _is_ crazy.  Wising up, but still crazy._

            "Gohan!" Chi-Chi called from the house.  "Lunch is ready!"

            "Oh boy, food!"

            Piccolo blinked as his student burst into motion – literally, with a _ki_ flare and a small crater behind him.  He never would truly understand these Earthlings and their fascination with food…

            _Shall we move soon?_

_            By all means._

            "Lunch" consisted of a week's worth of leftovers.

            Piccolo was not the only one disgusted with Goku's dining habits.  It was one thing to watch someone like – say – Krillin, who was rather polite about the whole thing.  _He_ didn't shovel everything in like a bulldozer, or a starving man.  He actually chewed his food before he swallowed, and he used a napkin.

            Which is more than could be said about Goku.  Kami, but that man was a mess.  Even his own wife could not stomach the view, though she lived with him for years.

            So the Namek kept his gaze pointedly away from Goku, as did Chi-Chi, Gohan, and Krillin.  The only one who would actually look at the Saiyan was Master Roshi, the Turtle Hermit, who couldn't care less what the other man was doing as long as he was eating all the leftovers.  Oolong was not at the table, luckily, or he would have had problems keeping the meal in his stomach.

            Needless to say, Goku was not pleasant company at any function involving food.

            "Hey, Mom," Gohan asked near the end of the meal, "would you mind if I stayed here tonight?"

            All noise – save Goku, of course – stopped as the woman looked over at her son.  "For what, Gohan?" she asked in an all-too-pleasant voice, with a thinly veiled threat behind the question: _Don't you dare tell me it has something to do with _him_._

            It took all of the demi-Saiyan's willpower to not shudder; the truth would get him into trouble, but lying was not in his nature.  "So I can learn a new technique from Piccolo," he said, so quietly his father and Krillin missed his statement entirely.

            "Did you just tell me that you want to spend the night here so you can train?" Chi-Chi said just as quietly.

            Gohan nodded mutely, and his mother narrowed her eyes.  "With that _thing_?"

            Piccolo felt anger welling up inside him.  Why would anyone think they would be able to get through a meal without at least one fight?  It was a rather impractical assumption.  Chi-Chi never could resist tossing a barb at him when she could, as payback for the pain he had caused her family, but this had gone far enough.  It was no longer even remotely amusing, and he did not want to see the child he'd grown to care for put on a guilt trip when he had done nothing wrong.  It was one thing to insult him, but to drag Gohan into it…

            Another nod was the response, and Piccolo caught the tears in Gohan's eyes.  The mother-mentor conflict was taking its toll on him.

            _Enough is enough._

            Goku and Krillin both turned their heads sharply the instant they felt Piccolo's _ki_ spike.  The Saiyan dropped the piece of chicken he had been about to shove into his mouth and gulped down what he was already chewing.  This situation could get ugly, he thought, his eyes widening as he watched the expression on Piccolo's face shift from neutral to the look he wore before he went into battle.  _That_ was not good.  He didn't really know why Piccolo was taking offense – he never had before, at least not like this – until he saw Gohan struggling not to cry.

            _Ah, Chi-Chi, what have you gotten yourself into?_ Goku thought, tensing his arms.

            Piccolo rose from his chair silently and folded his arms over his chest.  "Leave Gohan out of this," he growled, curling his lips up into a sneer.  "He isn't the one you have the problem with."

            Chi-Chi met his fierce gaze with her own and stood up as well.  "Oh?" she snapped back.  "Then I suppose you've suddenly become his mother and know what's best for him, is that it?  So you'll take him away and turn him into a monster, too?"

            "Chi-Chi," Goku interjected.

            "Is fighting the only thing on your mind?" she continued, locked in a glare.  Then she dropped the figurative other shoe.  "Or are you just hell-bent on destroying everything we've ever worked for, including my son?"

            That did it.

            For an instant nothing happened.  Goku dared to hope that Piccolo would just let it slide, that he would walk away from it – and his hopes were dashed.  The Namek went from calm to raging in a heartbeat.

            Piccolo slammed both hands down onto the table and stretched over it until he was an arm's length from the woman's face, causing the others to flinch.  His lips were curled back to reveal his fangs, more than adequately intimidating on their own, but coupled with the deadly look in his eyes…it was no wonder Chi-Chi took a step away from the table.

            "You will not drag Gohan into a fight that concerns us," he hissed.  "And if you keep pressing it – if it's a fight you want, I'll be more than happy to oblige."  All this was said so low as to be a murmur, a voice on the wind, but the words were clear enough to all.

            For a moment, Goku thought he was going to attack his wife, and he practically leapt between them.  "Piccolo, no!" he gasped, staring straight into the other warrior's eyes.

            At the sound of his voice Piccolo blinked.  "Piccolo!" Goku exclaimed again, and the Namek dropped his gaze.  Without meeting anyone else's curious eyes, he turned and strode swiftly out the door, presumably acutely aware of what he had so nearly done.       

            Goku heaved a sigh of relief, and behind him Chi-Chi did the same.  It wasn't what Piccolo had said that worried him, but the chilling voice he'd said it in.  That, and the look in his eyes wasn't right.  He had not looked that murderous since the last Budokai.

            _Wait a second, _Goku thought, frowning.  _The look in his eyes.  What was so different about them?  What was it?_  He mulled over the idea for only a few seconds before the cold realization struck him, and when it did he felt a sense of dread down in the pit of his stomach.

            His eyes, before he had dropped his gaze, had been red.

            Goku's own eyes widened, and he scurried out the door after the Namek.

* * * * *

All right, so maybe this _wasn't_ out after the weekend.  You have the right to yell at me for it, at least this once.

Thanks for sticking with it.

~Dreamwraith


	24. Chapter Twenty Four

I bet you didn't think it would be out _this_ quick.

And thank you, Dania-san, for reminding me just why I am a Namek fan. *grin*

**Disclaimer: ***snuggles her Burger King toys* They're about all I own of DBZ, that and some manga and taped episodes.

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

            Goku caught up with Piccolo underneath the tree.  The Namek had his back to him and was shaking his head, as though he was confused.  _Well, he's not the only one,_ the Saiyan thought, mentally preparing himself for the worst.  "Piccolo," he asked, "what happened back there?"

            The Namek did not respond.  Was he ignoring him?

            He tried again.  "Are you all right?" he asked.

            Again, there was no answer.

            Goku then put a hand on Piccolo's arm, wincing as the Namek jumped at the contact.  "What's going on, Piccolo?" he questioned.  "You're not acting like yourself, and it's starting to worry me."

            The other warrior shifted away from Goku's hand.  "Feh.  Even if I knew, do you think I would tell you?  It is none of your business."

            "Well, I'm making it my business," the Saiyan replied, stepping around the tree so he stood in front of Piccolo.  "You're the second-strongest guy on the planet, Piccolo, and if something's wrong with you, we need to help you."

            "There is nothing wrong with me," Piccolo insisted, narrowing his eyes at his former enemy.  "Ask Gohan if you do not believe me.  He would tell you the same thing."  The confidence he exuded was enough to convince Goku of it, though shakily indeed, and the Saiyan began to calm down bit by bit.  _I only wish I was half as confident about it as I must look, _he thought.  _That…was not pleasant._

            "Well, if you say so," Goku said, shrugging.  "But that was really scary, Piccolo.  You looked like you were going to tear Chi-Chi's head off!"

            _I almost did._  "I have more control than that," the Namek growled.  "Besides, you would have stopped me even as I extended my hands to kill her."

            The Saiyan shrugged again, and Piccolo gave him one of those Don't-give-me-that-nonsense-you-know-you-could-have-if-you-wanted-to looks.  _I don't know about that,_ Goku thought to himself.  _I couldn't even move until after he was done speaking!  But why?_  He regarded the Namek with a frown of his own.  _You're hiding something, Piccolo, and I don't know what it is.  I don't even know where to begin._

            "You know, Piccolo," Goku said finally, after several minutes of an uncomfortable silence, "if something like this happens again, everyone's going to think you're turning back into Daimao."

            "I never was Daimao.  You and I both know that."  Piccolo regarded him coolly, noticing how the Saiyan refused to shrink away from his gaze.  What he said was true; Piccolo had only had the misfortune of being born with all of the Demon Lord's memories, desires…and hatred.  Kami, how long it had taken him to get over it all, and even now he still felt his sire's hold over him.  Not even Gohan, for all the good he'd done him, had been able to undo all the damage wrought by Daimao.

            Goku stood his ground against the Namek's searching gaze.  He was right, of course.  Piccolo was rarely ever _wrong._  Even at the Tenka'ichi Budokai he had known the demon (as he thought his only heritage was) was not completely evil, like his sire.  He had also known that despite Piccolo's claim of being Daimao, he was not the same creature.  Son Goku, as with everyone he had ever fought, had given him a chance at life, and the way Piccolo had spent it proved he was not the Demon Lord himself.

            "Just promise me that you'll see Kami if anything else happens," he said after a while.

            Piccolo lifted one eye ridge.  "And if I don't?" he questioned.

            "If something happens again, I – we – will make sure you don't harm anything."  The expression on Goku's face told Piccolo that the man was neither fooling around nor bluffing.

            Piccolo did not doubt that for an instant, though he was shocked at the other man's behavior.  _Is this really coming from his Super Saiyan transformation, as I thought before?_ he wondered.  _Is he becoming more…responsible?  Or has he been like this all along?_  "All right," he mumbled.  He did not feel like being flattened for not giving an answer.

            "_Promise_ me, Piccolo," the Saiyan pressed.  "Swear it.  Say it, so I know you're not lying to me."

            The green man felt his eyes widen.  _Where is all _this_ coming from?_  "Fine," he growled.  "I…promise…to see Kami if something goes wrong."

            Goku suppressed a smile as Piccolo stumbled over his words; it would only piss him off more.  That, and the situation was very grave.  This promise _had_ to be made.  He needed the reassurance, and Piccolo was an honorable man.  If he said he would do something, he would do it.  Well, at least the delivery was consoling.  King Kai would have fallen over laughing.  The Great and Mighty Piccolo, forced into a promise like that.

            Then again, if he knew the circumstances behind it, the blue god would not be so amused.

            "Is that good enough for you?" the Namek grumbled.

            "Yes, it is," Goku replied, rubbing the back of his head.  "But I still have another question for you."

            _Kais above,_ Piccolo swore, _this will not turn into an inquisition!_  "What?"

            The Saiyan jumped at the sharpness of his voice.  "Well," he began, but much quieter now than he had been, "back there, when you were leaning over the table and all, your eyes – they changed color, Piccolo."

            If Goku had been surprised before, he was shocked now.  He felt his own eyes widen in sympathy as he watched the blood drain from Piccolo's face.  He would have thought the Namek had fried something in his brain was it not for the fact he was still breathing.  "What…color were they?" he said after a moment, speaking slowly as if still trying to digest the information.

            "Red.  A really bright red.  Or maybe the light just hit them funny, but yeah, they were red.  Was it some kind of new technique, Piccolo?"  Goku tilted his head to the side in anticipation of the answer, hoping that he was right but knowing the chances of that happening were slim.

            "Shit."  Piccolo closed his eyes and shook his head slowly.  "You really were desperate to get me to see Kami, weren't you?" he asked.  Goku found himself waiting with baited breath for the Namek to open his eyes so he could see what color they would be this time, but he was disappointed…and relieved.  The whites of his eyes were still white.

            "No, why?" he asked.  "I take it having red eyes is not a good thing, then?"

            "No, it is not."

            "Care to explain?"

            "No."

            "Any particular reason?"

            _Sure.  Perhaps because I do not wish to be locked up in a rice cooker for the rest of my life?  That I do not want to be hunted down for being unstable?  That should be it.  Oh, and while I'm at it, I can go into the intricacies of being a demon, all the perks of the job, and how _wonderful_ it feels to hear screams in your sleep.  Should I add the bit about Daimao's various legacies, too?_  "Don't you have anything else to do with your time?" Piccolo growled.

            "Right now?  I should be finishing my lunch.  And I'm probably going to get whacked for walking out on Chi-Chi and Gohan."

            Piccolo smirked.  "It would serve you right, following me out here just so you could harass me."

            The green man did have a point there, the other man admitted to himself, but he was not about to tell him that.  "I am _not_ harassing you!" Goku replied indignantly, folding his arms across his chest.  "I'm just making sure you're okay!"

            "I said it before: ask Gohan.  He will know if something happens to me."  Piccolo turned his back to the Saiyan and sighed.  "You should not be concerning yourself with me.  Get back to your friends and family and convince them that I am not going to blow up the island."

            A puzzled look crossed Goku's face, until he noticed how rapidly Krillin's and Gohan's _ki_ was fluctuating, spiking and dropping like they were in the midst of a battle.  "Oh," he said simply.  "Okay."

            Goku brushed past the Namek on his way back and ducked his head in apology.  He felt he was forgetting something, but what?  He stopped in his tracks – practically hearing the green man's long-suffering sigh – as he ran through his last few thoughts, tallying the count on his fingers.  _Lessee here, _he thought, _getting back to Krillin and Chi-Chi an' Gohan, finishing lunch, telling Piccolo I wasn't harassing him, lunch, red eyes, making a promise, lunch, the last Tenka'ichi Budokai – oh, yeah, that's it!_

            Again, Piccolo feared the worst when Goku whirled on him, but the man's countenance was anything but threatening.  In fact, he looked downright cheerful, and for some reason that chilled the Namek more than a blatant threat would have.  "Oh, yeah, Piccolo," the man began – Piccolo made a valiant effort not to let any emotion leak onto his face – "Gohan said you told him you could beat both me and him in a few days.  Care to give it a try?"

            Despite himself, Piccolo relaxed his stance and smirked.  The look in Goku's eyes was challenging, and expectant…and there was no way he would resist such an offer.  "I think I will.  You'll regret it," he told the man.

            "Doubtful, but I'll be looking forward to it."  With a slight wave of a hand, the Saiyan trekked back to the Kame House, leaving Piccolo alone with his thoughts.

_The Lookout_

            "And what are you thinking about doing with this situation, Kami?" Uranai Baba asked, sipping at the glass of tea Mr. Popo had provided her with.  "It could very well turn ugly, and then where would we all be?"

            "In all likelihood, dead," the Guardian replied bluntly.  "That _ki_ spike was most assuredly him, and it worries me.  Not so much that he powered up, but that I could find no reason behind it.  It's disturbing."

            "I don't blame you," the witch said.  She shook her head slowly before continuing.  "You didn't exactly _feel_ what was going on…seventeen days ago, was it?  I was lucky I was able to bind whatever it was to its own realm.  If it could see now how unstable Ma Junior is, I guarantee that it would have grabbed him.  _Then_ you would have another Daimao on your hands."

            Kami sighed and massaged his temples gently.  "Which would be disastrous.  Goku had trouble with him last time.  What would he do now against not only Daimao, but a friend?  He couldn't kill me during the last Budokai to kill Piccolo.  Would he be able to kill Piccolo to destroy something controlling him?"

            "Probably not," Baba added thoughtfully, running her fingers along her new crystal ball.  "Goku is not that type of person, Kami.  He'd just as soon try convincing whatever-it-is to leave Ma Junior alone and out of the fight as he would try figuring out how to force it out of him.  At least we know you will not have to deal with that situation now.  Ma Junior is almost well again, and he won't be vulnerable at all then.  I've tested his shielding.  Nothing will be getting by him."

            "At least that is good news."  Kami smiled weakly at the witch.  Inwardly, he doubted her wisdom on the matter, because he knew, just _knew_ that something was not right with Piccolo.  Uranai Baba, as expert as she was in matters of the supernatural, so to speak, did not have the ability to sense what happened to Piccolo.  No matter what she said, there were too many signs pointing toward its direct opposite.

            For instance, the younger Namek's eyes turning red.

            The Guardian only knew about that in particular because he had felt the _ki_ spike and Piccolo's very unusual loss of control and had peeked in on his nephew.  Reflecting back on it based on what he had seen both in Piccolo's and Goku's minds, the only reason he had not actually lunged for Chi-Chi was that the other warriors were around.  And that was a very near thing.

            But red eyes…

            Kami had not had to deal with the likes of that for well over a century, and even then he was not completely sure of what it meant.  He had seen many an evil soul with red eyes, but it might just be that it was through some quality of theirs that this was so.  Then why would it have happened to Piccolo?  There were plenty of reasons, of course; the boy was a demon, for one, but he was also a Namek.  He did not know for sure.  What he _did_ know is that the last being he had come across with red eyes had been a demon.

            He had already accounted for that, though, and it still made no sense to him.

            The Guardian blinked.

            "Are you done daydreaming yet, Kami?" Baba asked with a smile.  "Would you mind telling me what is on your mind?"

            Kami sighed.  "If you wish to know…I fear that Piccolo is reverting back into what he once was.  He has been unstable enough for it lately, and I would not be surprised to wake up tomorrow morning to find him at my throat with his claws."

            "A regression that great would not be happening overnight, Kami," Baba interjected, "or even over a few weeks.  Changes along those lines take months, even years."

            "Very true," the Guardian conceded, "but it still irks me, not knowing for certain what is happening to the being my very life is connected to."  He sighed again.  "I believe that these problems all stem from him being a demon as well as a Namek – and believe me, demons attract many problems – but just where the connection lies, I do not know."

            "Has your library told you anything?"

            The aging Namek smiled then, and responded.  "I have learned much about a human 'custom' called exorcism, which removes a demon from a body with holy symbols and a few other items."

            Baba snorted in amusement.  "So you have learned how to tear your own soul from your body."

            "It's fairly useless.  Piccolo _is_ a demon, and this ritual would probably harm or kill him, and me."

            "Indeed it is.  Any other ideas, for now?"

            Kami grunted an affirmative.  "The best option, it seems, is to speak with Piccolo and find out from him what is going on.  Nigh impossible, but most likely my only hope of dealing with the situation."

            Uranai Baba nodded.  "Then I wish you luck in your little adventure, Kami.  I must be off again, but don't hesitate to call for me if you need something."

            "Thank you, Baba."

            And Kami was left alone on the Lookout with a wisp of smoke, attempting to figure out how he would get to Piccolo before anything else could happen.

* * * * *

For once, I almost have the next chapter done.  Thank you all for reading – and a Happy Halloween to you.

~Dreamwraith


	25. Chapter Twenty Five

This chapter was so…fun…to write, and it's long, too.  Heh.  As promised, it's out for Halloween, and I'm hoping my updates come a bit quicker after this.  Enjoy.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own DBZ, though it is on occasion fun trying to think of interesting disclaimers to put to this story.

**Chapter Twenty-Five**

            Kami did not have to wait long before his opportunity had presented itself.  Upon reflection much, much later, he thought he should not have hoped so fervently that Piccolo would come to him – for when he did, he brought all Hell with him.

            It was two days after his short conversation with Uranai Baba that the aged Namek began to feel a sense of dread, the figurative dark clouds amassing and looming over the horizon.  At first it was barely noticeable, and the Guardian wrote it off as nothing more than nerves, and being anxious about contacting Piccolo.  Though why this was, he was not certain.

            "Popo," Kami called, sinking gratefully into his throne, "would you be so kind as to bring me a glass of water?"  Then he sighed and closed his eyes, rubbing his temples to relieve some of the strain coming from keeping track of Piccolo for hours at a time.  It was almost dinner time, and the last thing he had felt from the younger Namek was a sense of relief.  From what, he couldn't tell, but he was rather glad Piccolo was not overly upset about anything at the moment.  He liked to think the other Namek was let off the hook and did not have to sit at the dinner table with the humans.

            Of course, the Guardian did not rule out the possibility that Piccolo might be hiding his emotions.

            "That boy will be the death of me," he mumbled, dropping his head forward so that his chin rested in one of his hands.

            His duty as Guardian was almost done for the day, and then he could retire to the library once more and attempt to find out more about what to do with Piccolo.  He only needed to scan the planet quickly for any disturbances.  It had been one of those days, where minor problems would arise and require his attention, and two more sprang up in the place of each one he took care of.  Between that and Piccolo, Kami felt he needed a vacation.  It was too bad he was not able to convince Goku to take his position years ago.

            The aging Namek closed his eyes and cleared his mind, allowing his senses to roam the planet without him.  As usual, he checked up on each and every one of the Earth's defenders and spiraled out from there; if there ever was any real threat to the planet, at least one of them would be there with it.  At the present time, Chiaotzu and Tien were headed off towards Yamcha, who was at the Capsule Corp. with Bulma…Krillin was at the Kame House…Goku and Gohan were eating dinner…Vegeta was actually in this solar system, just past the moon somewhere…Piccolo was…what?

            Kami frowned as he tried to focus in on the other Namek with his sight, but all he found was a curious blankness, as though he had struck a wall.  "What is this…" he mumbled to himself, forcing himself to stare through the blank spot.  He knew Piccolo was there; his _ki_ senses told him he was there.  And he had not felt him leave the Kame House.  But why couldn't he see him?  Blast.  He should not have let the boy out of his 'sight'.

            The Guardian found his 'eyes' drawn to a sudden movement, a ripple in the wall, and he stretched himself just a bit farther for a closer look…to catch sight of his own reflection.  "Strange," he muttered, peering at his own image.  "What is going on here?"  Strange, indeed.  For the more he stared, the more distorted the area seemed, and when his curiosity got the better of him he reached out for it to touch its surface.

            And a black creature with glowing eyes leapt out at him, dripping fangs angled for his face as it snarled…

            Kami pulled back into himself with a shout that had Mr. Popo running for him.  "Oh, my goodness," he panted, clutching at the sides of his seat hard enough to leave scratches in them.  "What on Earth was _that_?"

            "Kami!  Kami!" the djinn cried as he rounded a corner, sloshing water from the glass he was bringing to the Namek.  "Is everything all right?  Are we under attack?"

            "No, no, Popo," the Guardian replied slowly, his eyes darting about the room as though trying to find the invisible assailant.  "I am just seeing things."

            Mr. Popo frowned deeply as he set the glass of water down next to Kami.  "But you are the Guardian, Kami," he said.  "You are supposed to see things."

            "Not like this, Popo," he replied with a sigh.  "I must be tired."  _Or else the worst has happened,_ he thought, _and…_

            Kami's thoughts trailed off when he felt Piccolo's _ki_ suddenly flare up on the island.  "What…what is happening?" he gasped, leaping to his feet and knocking the glass to the floor.  The puddle went unnoticed, because Mr. Popo was staring in shock at the look of horror on the Guardian's face.

            "Oh, Kami, what is it?" the djinn exclaimed.  "Has something happened to Piccolo?  Or Goku?"

            "It's Piccolo."  The Guardian sprinted across the room and stopped in the doorway, staring out across the vast expanse of the Lookout.  Normally a burst of _ki_ from the other Namek did not mean anything, but this was not normal in the least.  The nearest warrior to Piccolo was Krillin, and he was helping with the dishes.  Well, 'had been' would have been much more accurate; Kami doubted Krillin would have stood still for an outburst like that.

            His earlier sense of dread flared up into something much more terrible, more foreboding, and he could almost feel the pit of his stomach drop out.  "Fight it, Piccolo," the older Namek whispered to the wind.  "You must, or it will take you."

            He did not even want to guess at what 'it' was, for fear he would be right.

            Piccolo had been noticeably relieved when he was not asked to dinner by either Krillin or Master Roshi.  "I might as well meditate," he muttered to himself as he folded his arms and legs and lifted himself into the air, enjoying the heat that radiated off the still-warm sand.

            He cleared his mind and focused on nothing, the blessed silence soothing his frazzled nerves.  The Namek could hardly believe how loud two humans and one shapeshifter could be, or how much they could argue.  Actually, it was the turtle hermit and that pig doing most of the fighting; Krillin was merely an unfortunate bystander.

            Nevertheless, he had been glad that he was able to escape from them.

            _Escape?_ Piccolo snorted mentally.  _More like terrified them into leaving me be._

            _As you should have._

            His eyes flew open at the disruption.  "I told you to leave me alone," he growled dangerously.

            _I decided to help you with your 'inhibitions', young demon._

            "I am not 'inhibited'.  Now get out of my head."

            _Or else what?  Will you run to that pathetic excuse of a Guardian?_

            Piccolo gritted his teeth angrily.  "I do not run to anyone," he hissed.

            _Then why not face it?  You know what you are._

            His eyes narrowed to slits, and he growled again.  "Good.  I know my heritage.  I think you have made that very clear – I'm a demon, and a Namek.  Is that good?"

            _I know what you are, as well.  You're tainted._

            As simple as the phrase was, it struck something within Piccolo, and he found himself suddenly overwhelmed by it.

            _Tainted,_ said Morodath with his dying breath.

            _Tainted._

            The thought echoed through his mind and brought him to his knees with its intensity.

            "Damn it," he hissed, clutching at his temples so hard with his taloned fingers that he drew blood.  "Stop this.  I gave it up!"  _What is happening?_ he screamed to himself.

            He tore his hands away from his head in horror, staring at them.  In place of a few purple smudges ran red rivulets of blood, dripping onto the golden sand and staining it, trickling through the grains slowly.  His eyes widened at the sight.

            _Tainted._

_            I will not be feared because I am different, a Namek, but because I am a demon.  Because of my sire, and my actions_._  Because of what he and I have done.  Because I am evil incarnate._

            The twin voices of the dead hybrid and himself spoke in his thoughts as he reeled away from the illusion.  "No," he said fiercely, "I will not listen to you!"  Onyx orbs turned dull, white began to color red as the blood he envisioned.  _Oh, but how they danced for you, demon lord, before they died!  Did you feel no rush, no excitement from their cries?  How warm they were on your taloned hands!_

            The Namek shook his head violently and swiped at the empty space in front of him, his _ki_ flaring up around him.  "Get away from me," he snarled.  "I will not fall to you."

            _Ah, but you don't know that, now do you?_

            The promise he made to Goku then crept to the front of his jumbled mind, and he exhaled hard.  _Just promise me that you'll see Kami if anything else happens.  Promise_ _me, Piccolo.  Swear it.  Say it, so I know you're not lying to me_, the man had said.  And he had agreed to see the other Namek if anything went wrong.

            And this definitely constituted 'wrong'.

            With a cry he sprang into the air and bolted for the Lookout, ignoring Krillin's startled exclamation behind him.

            Kami felt his counterpart's offspring approaching the Lookout and reached out to him anxiously; and he recoiled both physically and mentally from the turmoil he encountered.  He had so rarely felt such a sensation in Piccolo.  The situation must be dire indeed for this to be happening.

            He had a fleeting feeling of regret that he had not done more for the younger Namek, but it could not be helped now.  Piccolo was coming to him, most likely for help, and he needed to be ready.  He could not afford to be distracted now.

            "Popo," he said to the djinn standing just behind him, "if you don't mind, I'd like you to wait inside the library, or down below with Korin and Yajirobe."

            "Is this going to be dangerous?" Mr. Popo asked, furrowing his brow.  "I shouldn't let you face him alone, Kami."

            "Don't worry about me, Popo," the Namek reassured him.  "I do not wish to offend you, but you would only distract me from whatever I will need to do."

            The dark man was visibly upset, but he complied.  Calling for his magic carpet, he added one final request.  "But if you need help, Kami, please call me.  I feel terrible about leaving you to do this on your own."

            His sorrowful expression was lost on the Namek, who snapped his head around in the direction Piccolo's _ki_ was coming from.  The difference in his _ki_ was quite noticeable now, and Kami would have been willing to bet that Korin was going nuts.  The cat was more likely than not trying to find a suitable spot from which he and Yajirobe could defend his tower far below the Lookout.  Kami snorted in amusement, before growing serious once more.  If Piccolo wanted to destroy the tower and its inhabitants, there would be nothing either of them could do about it.

            The Guardian waved to Mr. Popo as he hopped onto his carpet and sped away, disappearing from sight into the clouds below.  "Thank you for listening, old friend," he muttered, tightening his grip on his staff.  "Let us pray that this all comes to nothing."

            He frowned when he felt Piccolo's _ki_ spike again – a burst of speed – and faced the oncoming warrior completely, stepping away from the doorway and out into the fading light.  He was so close to the Lookout now, he would arrive any…

            A brilliant streak of light flashed close by Kami, and the force of its passing knocked him off his feet.  The Guardian pulled himself back up and caught sight of the trail it had left, straight through three of the trees and one of the pillars, and leading off the Lookout.  His eyes widened as he thought, _Did he miss the Lookout entirely?  Has he fallen off?_

            Kami sprinted to the edge of the Lookout, wincing in sympathy as he followed the scorched path.  A landing like that, with that much of a skid, and with all the jagged edges he had torn up…Piccolo would be feeling _that_ for a while.  At least there was no blood mixed in with the charred tiles.

            "Charred?" the older Namek murmured.  "With all the landings and battles here, the tiles were never charred.  What…what has happened to him?"  Kami crouched down and leaned over the edge, and caught sight of Piccolo as he dangled by one hand off the side.  _Well, at least talons are good for something,_ the Guardian thought with a bit of humor, _but the holes will have to be patched later._  He reached down and latched onto the younger Namek's wrist, grunting as he slowly pulled him back onto the Lookout.

            Even before Piccolo's face was visible, Kami knew something must be terribly amiss.  Not protesting being dragged back onto the floor by the person he hated most of all?  By all that was holy, Piccolo must have been struggling against a serious problem.  Deadly serious, judging by the gouges in his head.  The other Namek had clenched his eyes shut against something, and it was all Kami could do to _not_ embrace him.  "Piccolo, speak to me," he said gently, taking a step back after he released him.  "What is going on?  What has happened to you?"

            The response came in his mind.  _Grab…my shoulder…follow me to my training area again._

            The Guardian almost collapsed in shock.  Piccolo had volunteered something?  _Hang on, child.  I am coming._  He did as he was asked and was immediately sucked into Piccolo's mind.

            "Too quickly," Kami said, surveying his surroundings.  Once again he was in that boundless field, with the withered trees and the forest and the moss, and it all looked relatively intact – a small relief.  Was he still salvageable?  "I should not have gotten here this quickly."

            "Then make this just as quick, Kami," Piccolo snapped, appearing in front of him.  "Tell me what you've been hiding from me these past few weeks.  You can't deny that you've sensed something different about me.  Why didn't you tell me?  Why didn't you warn me?"

            The Guardian blinked at the accusing glare he received.  "Would you have believed me if I told you something was amiss?  You would have dismissed my advice and walked away.  And I _did_ warn Goku and the others.  They were told what to do if and when something happened to you."

            "Answer the question already!" Piccolo growled.  "Don't just stand there wasting my time.  What is wrong with me?"  The younger Namek crossed his arms over his chest and scowled deeply, radiating a rage that would have rivaled anything Vegeta could have ever felt.

            Kami grimaced.  "King Kai and I both knew you would be vulnerable to mental suggestions, and we both kept our eyes on you because you would not have been able to handle it.  Someone has been manipulating you."

            "I did not ask you to come so you could tell me how weak I am, old man," Piccolo snapped.

            "That's not what I meant, Piccolo, and you know it," Kami snapped back, gritting his teeth.  "I'm telling you that there's something out there with a grudge against you, not that you aren't a strong warrior!"  He lifted his staff up and struck the ground every few words, emphasizing his agitation.  "I am trying to help you, Piccolo, but you are fighting it every step of the way!"

            "I don't need your _help_, Kami," the self-proclaimed demon spat.  "I've lived this long without anything at all from you, except attempts on my life.  I can live a bit longer.  I only want the answer to my question."

            "And that is where the problem lies!"

            Piccolo turned on his heel abruptly and strode off into the field, away from the forest and Kami.  The Guardian had already stayed too long in his mind, and both Nameks knew it.  "I don't want you back in here.  I'll deal with it on my own," he said after a moment of the most uncomfortable silence Kami had ever 'heard'.

            "Then you admit that something is wrong?" the Guardian asked breathlessly as he half-ran to catch up to Piccolo.

            Piccolo said nothing, and that was not comforting at all.

            "Piccolo, talk to me," Kami said softly.  "I can help you with this."

            Then a third presence joined the two Nameks in the mental training ground.  Piccolo's well-set shields twinged and then shrieked as they were burned away by a powerful force, and Piccolo's mental projection flinched.  Kami whipped his staff in front of him, though it would be of little use if a conflict erupted in the field  It wasn't his mind.

            _You will wisssh you can, foolisssh Guardian, _a strange voice rasped, coming from everywhere and nowhere.

            "Who are you?" Kami challenged, glancing about.

            "What are you doing here?" Piccolo roared, with a hint of fear in his voice.  He recognized that sibilant voice.  "Get out!"

            _You would die if I did, ssson of Daimao._

            And like a bolt of lightning, a cold realization dawned on Kami.  His eyes widened, the pale whites gleaming with what could be called fear.  His emerald skin blanched, beaded with sweat.  "No," he gasped, "that can't be what this is all about!  He cannot do this from beyond the halls of the Afterlife!"  As he finished the last word, a wind whipped forth from the trees, howling in its intensity and seeming startlingly familiar to Piccolo.  He'd already felt such a gale, and several pieces of the puzzle clicked into place.

            "Do you know what this is?" Piccolo shouted to the Guardian, whose face was now set in a grim realization of something he didn't, or couldn't, pick up on.

            "You've got a demon in your mind, Piccolo," Kami said, furrowing his brow and closing his eyes for a brief moment.  The look he gave the younger Namek when he opened them was far from reassuring.  "It has a hold on your soul."

            For all the times that Kami had told him half-truths and had refused to deal with him, Piccolo felt that now he was telling the truth.  It explained the wind that had _attacked_ him weeks ago, when Uranai Baba's crystal ball had been corrupted and broken.  It explained the voice he had heard in his head, the unusually violent suggestions his mind had given him.  The visions he had seen.  The loss of control.  He gritted his teeth and straightened up.  "Stop being dramatic, Kami," he growled much more bravely than he felt.  He tried to convince himself of it, that the other Namek was blowing it out of proportion, but deep in his heart Piccolo knew Kami was absolutely serious.__

            "Your father has you," Kami said simply, sadly, and then Piccolo's world began to change, as though that simple, damning phrase had cued it.  The 'sky' he trained under turned a sickly shade of yellow, and that horrible wind began to rage from every corner of the compass.  Kami did not – _could _not – see it, but Piccolo's vision began to blur and re-form in shades of red.  The grass withered and died, the few flowers there were shriveled up, the trees blackened and fell apart.

            "Get out of here, Kami," Piccolo growled, hanging his head.  "You can't fight it here."

            "What?"  The Guardian took a step forward, but the resulting shout from the younger Namek halted him in his tracks.

            "Damn it all, _leave!_" Piccolo yelled harshly, glaring up at his older counterpart.  "You can't do anything to help if you become trapped in here as well!"

            Kami saw what was in his eyes and complied, as the world around them crumbled.  The last thing he saw, before he awoke, was Piccolo settling himself in an aggressive fighting stance, with his talons outstretched as if to slice the "air" to ribbons.  Then Kami was ripped out of the younger Namek's mind…

            …and physically tossed across the Lookout, breaking more than a few pillars as he crashed through them.  He only just managed to catch the rim of the Lookout with one hand, before he would have plummeted the distance to the ground so far below.  The old Namek's muscles strained with the effort of maintaining his fragile grip on the smooth surface of the tiles, and they felt as though they were on fire.  "Kais above," he breathed, shaking his head violently to clear the muddled feeling lingering in his mind.  "This cannot be happening now!"

            Kami had seen Piccolo's face as he had been flung across his own sanctuary like a rag doll.  The younger Namek had opened his eyes long enough for them to exchange a startled glance, and the sight made him flinch even as he was forced away.  The whites of his eyes were tinted red, and they _glowed._

            The manifestation of a demon.

            The Guardian focused his _ki_ long enough against his disorientation to lift himself onto the Lookout, leaving him in a drained heap on the floor.  "Goku," he whispered as he stared at Piccolo, "help us."

            Oh, how he desperately wanted to believe in miracles, that beyond all hope something would happen, and this would all be over.  The old Namek remembered what he had been like before he had removed the evil from his body, before Daimao had been given form, and he knew what Daimao was like.  He knew all too well the shrewd cunning of the demon, how he would stop at nothing to attain his goal.  There was still a chance that Piccolo could be saved, provided he could fight off the demon inside, but it was nigh impossible at this stage.  His eyes were almost completely red; the demon was so close to victory.  He needed a miracle.

            But it was too late for miracles, and if Goku did not appear soon, it would be too late for the Earth, and for Piccolo.

            And Kami was afraid for them all.

            Piccolo had been shocked when he had been hurled from his own mental grounds, just as Kami had been.  He snapped his eyes open and exchanged glances with Kami, and he caught the look of horror on the old Namek's face.  He had felt that…_thing_…inside his mind, and he knew of no way to get it out.

            And his own bitter confession from five days before exploded in front of his face.  _I will never be free of his shadow._  His shadow.  Another demon.  Kami was right.  For once in his life, blast the Guardian, he had told the truth.

            _Damn him.  Damn you,_ Piccolo cursed viciously, slamming both hands onto the tiled floor and cracking it.  _Find someone else to follow around._

            _I am not following you.  I _am_ you._

            _You are not.  I am not the being you mistake me for._

            The Namek flinched at the sudden rush of anger.  _Do not presume to know what you do not!_ the voice bellowed.  _I know exactly who you are, and that you have become a mere shade of what you once were, what you could have been.  You will be stronger.  I will see to it._  The rasping voice chuckled, and Piccolo felt a chill run down his spine.

_            What the hell are you talking about?_ he demanded just as angrily.

            _Exactly that, Ma Junior.  Exactly that._

            Piccolo growled as the edges of his vision began to blur.  "Stop this," he said, clenching his hands tightly into fists, the talons drawing blood.

            For his pains, all he received in reply was that same chilling laughter.  _Son of Daimao, it is too late for you._

            It is said that at certain times in life, time itself ceases, and a moment can last forever.  A single heartbeat can be eternity.  And a horror can consume utterly.  Piccolo's eyes widened dramatically as everything fell into place for him, as he realized how terribly wrong he had been.  The voice that had been troubling him was no longer a separate entity.  It never really had been, not for a long time.  It was right.  It wasn't following him.  It was a part of him.  It _was_ him.

            As though the awful realization had been a trigger, the Namek's sight blurred completely, and he felt himself sinking, mind and body.  _No!_ he howled in the recesses of his mind, and then there was nothing.

* * * * *

Ahh, so a few of you already guessed it would happen.

A small warning (though it shouldn't matter if you've made it this far without incident): if you haven't guessed it, the story will become a bit more violent.  I don't believe I'll up the rating, but if my mind goes haywire I'll let you know.

Happy Halloween, everyone.  I'm going as myself. ^_~

~Dreamwraith


	26. Chapter Twenty Six

Tenka'ichi Budokai!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dragonball Z.  I do own my original characters.  And I own approximately half of a muse.

**Chapter Twenty-Six**

            Goku stopped shoveling his dinner into his mouth when he felt Piccolo's _ki_ flare up next to Krillin, and Gohan regarded him cautiously.

            "What is it, dad?" the boy asked, glancing anxiously out the window.  "What just happened out there?"

            Surprisingly, Goku remembered to swallow before answering.  "Piccolo must have gotten into an argument with Krillin," he reasoned, scratching the back of his head.

            "Good for him," Chi-Chi said, frowning in concentration – this was one of the times she wished she knew how to sense _ki_.

            "Mom, please stop."  Gohan kept his gaze out the window, though he knew Chi-Chi's eyes were boring into him, just begging him to look her way so she could stare him down and scold him for keeping the company of a demon.  _Namek,_ Gohan corrected himself.  _He might be a demon, but he's also a Namek._

            "Well, whatever it is," Goku interrupted, "he just headed off for the Lookout."

            The family sat in uncomfortable silence at the dinner table.  They got along well enough together, save when Piccolo's name was mentioned.  It was no secret that Piccolo was a thorn in Son Chi-Chi's side, and it was proved over and over again with each encounter between the two.  Between them Goku and Gohan could divert the worst of it, but both knew it would eventually come down to one final argument.  And 'argument' was putting it simply.  Knowing Piccolo and Chi-Chi, it would end up as a full-scale war.  Goku hoped desperately that Piccolo would be able to control himself when that happened.  He _did_ love his wife, as nasty as she could be, and he did not relish the idea of hunting the Namek down if something serious happened to her.

            "Why is he going there, dad?" Gohan finally asked, looking over at the other Saiyan.  "I thought he didn't like Kami."

             "Uh, well, he doesn't, but…oh, that is _not_ good."  The boy's eyes widened as Goku's face ran a gamut of emotions, from guilt to embarrassment to dawning comprehension, and an expression that could only be labeled as fear.  And anything that could scare his father (outside of needles) was dangerous indeed.

            "What's not good?" Gohan pressed anxiously.

            Goku slid his chair away from the table, oblivious to Chi-Chi's contemplative stare, and frowned.  "I made him promise to go see Kami if he felt something was wrong with him.  You saw him, Gohan.  He was jumping at nothing we could see, and talking to something that wasn't there.  I told him if he didn't promise that we would have to do something about it."

            The demi-Saiyan pieced it all together in his mind and suppressed a shudder.  "Dad, if it's that serious, should I try talking to him?" he asked.

            Goku's frown deepened.  "You might not want to, Gohan," he said slowly.  "If something _is_ wrong with him, you don't want to get yourself involved.  You'll be hurt."

            The boy scowled back at him, and Chi-Chi and Goku were both shocked with the action.  "He's my best friend, dad," he said angrily, "and all anyone ever wants is for me to leave him alone.  'Stay away from him, Gohan, he's dangerous'.  'What on Earth do you see in that guy, Gohan?'  That's all I hear from everyone!  I don't want to leave him alone if he needs help, and I'm not going to!"

            Goku caught his son's furious gaze as the boy began to push away from the table.  "Gohan," he began.

            "You can't stop me from helping him, dad!" Gohan interrupted.

            "I wasn't going to say you couldn't," the older warrior replied.  "I was going to ask you to wait until I was done.  I would rather go with you than have you go alone."

            The melting of his son's face from rage to joy made Goku smile despite himself.  "Just stay in touch with his _ki_ for a bit.  I'm almost done."  He shoved another piece of fish into his mouth as Gohan pulled himself back up to the table.  He ignored Chi-Chi's perturbed stare.

            Gohan closed his eyes and extended his senses to the Lookout, to Piccolo.  He felt his _ki_ surge, and Kami's weaken, and he twitched.  _Wait a minute,_ he thought, pushing himself farther to find the source of the exchange.  _I'm almost there!_  Gohan tentatively tapped into the mental link with his mentor – and the results were explosive.

            Piccolo's _ki_ skyrocketed, and the boy tasted something sour in the back of his throat.

            "Piccolo?" he whispered.

            Somehow the Namek must have heard him, because Gohan felt him consciously enter the bond as well, and he almost lost his end of the link when he felt his mentor's presence there.  Piccolo felt weak – though his _ki_ said otherwise – and something malicious lurked in the background.

            Malicious?  Gohan did a mental double-take.  That wasn't like Piccolo at all!  But the Namek seemed to be reaching out to him, to tell him something, and neither of them could…quite…reach…

            _Piccolo, don't leave,_ he begged.  _Please tell me –_

            A new sense that could only be labeled as 'malevolent' flared through the Namek's _ki_, and that was enough.

            "Holy _shit!_" Goku exclaimed abruptly, spitting out a mouthful of fish and startling Gohan back into awareness.  "What's happening up there?"  He didn't register leaping to his feet and knocking his chair back, nor did he notice how swiftly he charged his _ki_ around him.

            "Dad, something's wrong with Piccolo's _ki!_" Gohan cried a heartbeat later, upsetting his dinner plate as he, too, jumped from his chair.  "We have to get to him now!"  The boy could not understand what was happening to Piccolo, but he felt an urgent tugging at his mind, as if someone was trying to forcibly drag him through the air.  It didn't help that both Saiyans felt an impending sense of disaster if they did not hurry.

            Chi-Chi cried out at the sight of her husband and son reacting as though the world was on fire.  "What's going on?" she exclaimed, leaping to her feet as well.  "What's happening with Piccolo?"

            Later, when Goku found time to reflect upon it, he was surprised that the woman's voice harbored no hatred for Piccolo.  As it was, he was barely aware of his steaming dinner, and he was in no condition to judge tempers.  "Piccolo's _ki_ is much too high, Chi-Chi," he replied through gritted teeth.  "And there is something else there with him – he's fighting it.  We have to help him!"

            Chi-Chi nodded wordlessly, for once without anything to say.

            And the first of the attacks struck Gohan, causing him to scream and drop to the floor.  Bright colors exploded across his vision, clouding it.  Kami, how it hurt!  A knife in his mind, twisting, wrenching, tearing something away!  _Kami, make it stop!_ the boy cried in his thoughts, unaware that the Guardian would most likely be feeling the same thing.  He dug his fingers into his hair and held on, as though the pain in his head would somehow dull the pain hammering through his skull.  _It burns!_ he screamed.  _Piccolo, help!_

            "Gohan!" Chi-Chi and Goku both shouted, the woman rushing to his side and lifting him off the floor.  "Baby, speak to me!" she exclaimed, the words catching in the back of her throat.

            "Oh, Kami," Goku said softly, watching with a sickening sense of dread as Gohan writhed in his mother's arms.  "What horror is this?"  Then, louder: "Gohan, can you hear me?"

            The young demi-Saiyan moaned.  "Dad, it's on the Lookout…with him.  You have to get up there!"  Gohan screamed again as another pain raced through him, lighting nerves on fire.  "_Please_, dad, _hurry!_"

            When the man did not move, Chi-Chi acted.  "Goku, do what he says and get up there!"

            "But – "

            "_Now!_"

            Goku was at a loss.  He was never useless in a dire situation.  _Ever._  This was out of his league, and he knew it.  But if there was something on the Lookout with Piccolo that was attacking his son – no matter in what manner – he would find a way to destroy it, even if it meant taking down most of the Lookout with him.

            Gohan cried out again, and that was enough for him.  Goku balled his hands into fists, gritted his teeth, and burst straight through the roof into the sky, leaving pieces of wood and dust particles blowing about in his wake.  "I am going to get to the bottom of this, even if it means my life," he muttered under his breath, charging his _ki_ even as he sped towards the Lookout.  "This ends now."

            His words were lost on the wind.

            "Oh, no."

            Goku felt the bottom of his stomach drop as he surveyed the top of the Lookout.  In the fading light, the sanctuary was dulled to grey.  The once-pristine tiles were partially charred, all but a few, and those were cracked and spread across its expanse.  Several of the trees were broken off in the middle as well as a pillar, like something had been thrown through them, and Goku shuddered.  The palace itself was relatively intact, save minor structural damage, but the worst change in the Lookout was its very atmosphere.  Something powerful, something evil, had waged a war up here.  The very air seemed to crawl with something foul, and Goku did not put the mental barrage against his son past whatever had so damaged the Lookout.

            He approached the palace slowly, carefully, aware of two other _ki_ signatures still on the Lookout – Piccolo and Kami.  Piccolo, he was certain, had been greatly affected by whatever monstrosity had visited this place and was quite possibly lying injured in an unseen crater somewhere.  Kami's _ki_ was off near the edge of the Lookout, and it felt weak.

            Goku gritted his teeth.  He dared not approach the Guardian.  What if the thing that had been battling with Piccolo – he _must_ assume that Piccolo had been fighting against it and not with it – had set him out as bait?  Even now, could it be lying in wait with baited breath for him to approach Kami before springing its trap?  Rushing forward with its jaws opened wide and blood-stained fangs bared…

            "Where did _that_ come from?" Goku wondered aloud.  He hadn't had thoughts like that since the Tenka'ichi Budokai, when he learned exactly who and what Piccolo was.  The Namek had been so similar to his sire then, but more dangerous and just as cunning.  A deadly foe then, a worthy adversary not too long ago, and a friend now…Goku was glad Piccolo was on his side instead of carrying out the wicked tasks set before him.  If Piccolo had given in to his demonic half after battling Frieza, this world would no longer exist, replaced by a shade etched into dust and brimstone.

            The Saiyan grunted in annoyance.  He could not find the _ki_ belonging to whatever had created this mess and caused Piccolo's unbelievable _ki_ spike.  _What if Piccolo really _was_ jumping at something, something that only he could see?  What if something is trying to take control of his mind, too?  And more importantly, what if it was here all along?_  "Was I too blind to see something before my very eyes?" he mumbled to the wind.

            His body tensed as he caught sight of someone lurking within the recesses of the palace, and his heart pounded.  "This is nuts," he sternly rebuked himself.  "I shouldn't be afraid of the dark.  There's nothing up here that can harm me except for Piccolo, and I can out-muscle him if I have to."

            "Is that so?"

            Goku started as a form fluidly emerged from the darkened structure, heart racing along at the speed of light before he recognized the voice as belonging to Piccolo.  Only then did he relax, and a semi-hysterical laughter almost made it past his lips when he realized he'd been charging his _ki_ for the swiftest _Kamehameha_ he ever would have formed.

            "I hardly think you can do that, Son Goku."

            The Saiyan frowned as Piccolo came closer.  There was something different about him; every fiber of his being screamed for him to run away, to put as much distance between himself and the Namek as he possibly could.  _Foolish,_ he told himself, and he planted his feet in the overturned tiles.  "What happened up here, Piccolo?" he demanded.  "Why is this place such a wreck?"

            The Namek snorted and halted as well.  "There was a fight.  I won."

            "Well, who did you fight?"

            "Someone who should have respected a dying request."

            Goku's eyes narrowed with suspicion.  Piccolo's voice sounded…different.  More sibilant, harsher than before.  Falling ill would change a person's voice like that, and it could account for the strange sensations coming from his _ki_ – by some stretch of the imagination – but the warrior standing before him was certainly not sick.  In fact, he seemed a little _too_ well, if it could be called that.  Goku could not remember a time since the last Budokai that Piccolo had stood so confident and – that's the word! – exposed before him.

            Come to think of it, Piccolo had _never_ had his guard down so much before this very moment.  What was so different now that he seemed so relaxed?  If the place had just seen a full-scale _ki_ battle, he should not be so focused.  And even more disturbing was the fact that Piccolo had not a mark on him.  Goku caught himself staring at the Namek's arms, as if by magic bruises and cuts would appear on them.

            "You seem a bit unsettled, Goku."

            _And he's usually more subtle than this,_ the Saiyan commented silently.  "What if I am, Piccolo?  I think coming up here and finding out the place is trashed is shocking enough."  _I'm no genius, but it doesn't take one to realize Piccolo is hiding something.  Kami, I hope he is not the one who did this._  Goku blinked a few times to clear his vision and scowled when he realized the Namek had his eyes closed.

            Not only that, but he was also wearing an expression that could only be described as devious.

            Something was definitely up.  "Did you come up here to see Kami?" Goku asked, taking a step away from Piccolo.  This close to him, his _ki_ felt amiss, and the Saiyan did not know why.  "Piccolo, answer me."

            Piccolo began to laugh, then, and Goku flinched.  Kami, how that laugh brought back bad memories, back from his first encounter with the demon-spawned Namek at the last Tenka'ichi Budokai.  It was so similar to the mirthless laughter of the crazed warrior he had been that Goku found himself tensing up.

            "What makes you so sure I'm even Piccolo?"

            The Saiyan froze up, unwilling to even think about such a possibility.  It was utterly ridiculous, that he wasn't himself.  It couldn't possibly happen.  But there was a small voice gnawing at the back of his brain, telling him not to dismiss this so easily, something was very, very _wrong_…  "Stop – stop kidding around, Piccolo," he blurted, taking another step back toward the edge of the Lookout.  "I need to know what happened up here."

            Piccolo's voice went cold.  "Do you, now?" he asked.  "Then you might want to ask him yourself, wouldn't you?"  The Namek bared his fangs in a wicked smile that forced a chill down the other man's spine, and he opened his eyes – completing one of the most horrific visions Goku had ever seen.

            _Oh, Kami, his eyes are red his eyes are red oh Kami they're red!_  A frantic string of thoughts raced through the Saiyan's mind, and he reeled away from Piccolo.  "What…what are you?" he whispered, resisting with every fiber of his body the urge to run away.  "What are you doing here?"

            That – thing – chuckled, shattering the near-silence of the Lookout and Goku's temporary paralysis.  "It's not obvious enough, Goku?" it asked, advancing upon the shorter warrior.

            "What have you done with Piccolo?"

            "I haven't done _anything_ with Piccolo.  He's here still."

            Off in the distance thunder growled, a storm on the rise, which did not bode well for the Saiyan.  He remembered all too well storms like these, and they formed quickly only when a – _admit it, Goku,_ he told himself, _say it!_ – demon was present.  Piccolo had brought them with him at the Budokai, and Gohan had told him of several nasty squalls that had sprung up during his training with Piccolo.  But the Namek was one of them now!  He wouldn't do anything to hurt them, would he?  He couldn't!  A chill ran down his spine, and his skin crawled…and he found himself hard-pressed to believe what he had tried to convince himself of.

            Goku glared back at him, regaining his composure.  "You lie.  What have you done with him?"

            The being with Piccolo's voice smirked.  "I showed him the way back to what he was.  You made him soft; I made him strong again.  And there is nothing you can do now.  You're too late."

            _This isn't happening! _Goku groaned to himself.  _I don't want to fight him like this!_  Before him the Namek settled quickly into an aggressive fighting stance, and he followed suit.  "I don't want to fight you, Piccolo," he said softly, raising both fists level with his shoulders.  "Don't make me do this.  _Please,_ don't make this happen."

            Piccolo smirked again, smugly this time, and his eyes began to glow faintly.  "Goku, I would not have it any other way.  It's time to finish what I started years ago.  It's time to get rid of you."

            And with a cry more howl than shout, the possessed warrior charged forth.

* * * * *

All right, perhaps I exaggerated a bit.  I was hoping to get this out faster.  But that's beside the point.  Just as a random comment, the Twenty-Third Tenka'ichi Budokai kicks butt.  Piccolo just about gave me nightmares…and did a pretty good job of reminding me just _why_ he's my favorite character. ^^

Thanks again for reading!

~Dreamwraith


	27. Chapter Twenty Seven

*gringringrin* I just found out that an acquaintance of mine at school is a rabid DBZ fan.

I'm currently trying to drag my muse out from underneath my desk.  When he comes out, I'll let you know.  Sorry for the wait…it's Finals Week.  You know how that goes.

**Disclaimer:** I own the silver Piccolo and Gohan that stand between my speakers.  Do they count?

**Chapter Twenty-Seven**

            "Piccolo!" Goku shouted, barely ducking under the other warrior's fist.  "Fight this!  You don't have to do this!"  He darted to the right as Piccolo brought both fists down where his head would have been.

            The Namek's response was a small, intense _ki_ ball thrown at his face.

            Goku batted it away, reducing another pillar to rubble.  "You've gotta be in there still!  Come on!"  He flew back to give himself more room to maneuver even as Piccolo charged forward again.  When had Piccolo gotten this fast?  Sure, he had probably been training while he was lost in space, but was it possible for even the green man to gain this much power in only one year?

            _Apparently so,_ Goku thought grimly, catching one of Piccolo's muscled arms and using their combined momentum to swing him around in a circle and release him off the edge of the Lookout.

            "This isn't going well," the Saiyan muttered, beginning to gather his _ki_ around him.  "He's almost _too_ fast."

            Piccolo flew back into the fray and touched down on the lip of the tiled surface, his cloak flaring out behind him and completing the utterly chilling illusion of death.  _Of course,_ Goku thought miserably.  _That's what he was created for, wasn't it?  My death?_

            "Come now, Goku," the Namek sneered, stalking forward again.  "Surely you did not think the chance for such power would be overlooked, did you?"

            "Whoever you are," Goku growled, "you made the wrong choice of victim.  I'm the stronger one.  I'm the Super Saiyan.  You should have gone for me."

            The thing – he did not want to even _think_ of it as Piccolo – laughed.  "That is where you are wrong, Goku.  This one, Piccolo, has as much potential as you do.  He is of two people; yet each time you have fought against him, you have only fought against half of what he is.  Think of what he could have been combined."

            The Saiyan was no idiot.  Piccolo had been almost impossible to defeat at the last Tenka'ichi Budokai under Daimao's cloud, and he had been strong enough to hold back Frieza for a time on Namek.  Once as demon, once as Namek.  Goku could see where this was going, and his jaw dropped.

            "Ah, so you see what I am saying."

            _Only half?  Kami, he could have made minced meat out of me!_  Goku growled again at the cocky smile on the Namek's face, shifting his weight forward in his stance.  "How long did it take you to talk him into it?" he asked slowly, narrowing his eyes in anticipation.  "The Piccolo I know wouldn't have agreed to this."

            The other warrior crouched down, making as if he would spring at any moment.  "He never agreed."

            "That's what I thought."

            Both men lunged for each other at the same time, but Piccolo was the quicker of the two and scored the side of Goku's face with one taloned hand.  The Saiyan swerved to the side and pressed the back of his hand to his cheek briefly, assessing the damage.  It came away streaked with blood, but not heavily.  Minimal injury.  He dug his feet into the ground and propelled himself backwards into the green man.  Piccolo was caught off-guard, and he was sent sprawling.

            And suddenly he bellowed in pain and launched himself into the air, setting himself in a hover roughly his own height above the tiles.  Goku had absolutely no idea what had happened – he didn't touch him, did he? – until he saw how the Namek's feet and knees were smoking.  Wait a minute…smoking?  And his hands, and forearms, and elbows…if the situation hadn't been so serious, Goku would have started laughing.

            "What trickery is this?" the creature hissed, curling his body defensively.  "What have you done?"

            The Saiyan blinked at the demon and crouched, bringing his fists before his face.  "I didn't do anything.  You should ask Piccolo why you're smoking.  Maybe he'll tell you."  _And maybe I'll make you mad enough to let Piccolo break free, like he did with that one hybrid, what's-his-name.  Oh yeah, Morodath.  _Goku's lips quirked up in a small smile.

            He was caught off-guard when the other warrior cursed loudly enough to startle Kami into awareness at the other end of the Lookout.  "Foolishness!" he growled, glaring at the tiles as though they would attack him.  "How could I have forgotten?"

            "Forgotten what?"

            It was the Namek's turn to be caught off-guard; apparently he had forgotten Goku was on the Lookout and currently engaged in battle with him.  His head jerked up at the sound of the Saiyan's voice, and his eyes narrowed to glowing slits in the dark.  "I am not through with you, Son Goku," he rumbled.  "You _will_ pay for what you have done, and what damage you have caused."  Goku barely had time to react before Piccolo's aura flared up around him, darkly red as he burst into motion and launched himself away from the Lookout.

            The Saiyan frowned at the retreating figure's _ki_ trail.  "I'd be hard-pressed to catch him at that speed."

            "Do not try, Goku!" came Kami's voice just then, and Goku turned in time to see the Guardian struggle to his feet.  The aged Namek gasped for air before he continued.  "Do not allow him to corner you.  He means to kill you once and for all, and he has sent his underlings to do the job."

            "Who, Piccolo?"

            The Guardian shook his head as Goku paced over.  "No, Goku," he said, gazing worriedly in the direction the other Namek had taken.  "Not Piccolo.  We've been blind to the boy for such a long time, and now we're all going to pay the price for it.  He hasn't quite been Piccolo since your battle with the hybrids, and I did not know it until it was too late."  Kami cursed silently whatever idea had made him neglect Piccolo years ago.  His mistake had caught up with him, and no matter what the cost, he had to correct it.  Even if it meant his – and subsequently Piccolo's – life.

            "It's Daimao, Goku," Kami continued quietly.  "He's come for Piccolo, sent something to reclaim him, and this time you cannot stop him alone."

            At the mention of the Demon Lord's name, Goku's eyes widened in shock.  So many horrible memories were tied to that name, not the least of which was that final, momentous battle.  In a spray of blood the young Goku had burst through Daimao's chest and put an end to his reign of terror on Earth, though the Demon Lord had thought to create one last progeny to carry out his desire.  He'd had nightmares for months after coming face-to-face with that demon; at times he would still wake in a cold sweat, shivering from the nightmares Daimao had spawned.  "How did he get the power to come back here?" Goku gasped.  "I killed him!  He should be in Hell!"

            "He is."  Kami met Goku's worried gaze with his own.  "I fear Daimao has many allies in that place, and one of them has the power to influence the living realm.  It is another demon, Goku, that has a hold of Piccolo, and it seeks to revert him back to what he once was.  I have seen this in Piccolo's mind.  Daimao wants Ma Junior, not Piccolo, and if we cannot free him from his grasp, he will be lost."

            "This doesn't make sense, Kami," the Saiyan protested.  "What does Daimao have against him?"

            "He did not kill you, Goku.  The sole reason for his creation was your death, and Daimao knows he no longer follows his orders."

            Goku blinked.  "But he still wants me dead.  Then why isn't he coming after me now?"

            "I'm not sure," the Guardian confessed.  "I think it has something to do with whatever has control of Piccolo now.  Piccolo must still be fighting against it, so its hold over him is not complete yet.  It isn't quite strong enough yet…but it wouldn't _not_ try something."

            "You're right," Goku said, frowning.  "Daimao…from what I remember of him, he spent all of his time on task.  Whatever Piccolo is up to now, it's for a reason, probably to get stronger, or something like that."  _But that isn't it,_ he thought to himself, giving himself a mental kick.  _Focus, Goku!  There has to be something out there that he wants.  There has to be something for him to focus on!_

            A wry chuckle snapped the man out of his thoughts.  Curious, he glanced at Kami to make sure the aging Namek had not lost his mind.  Who would be laughing in this situation?  Unless it was to break the atmosphere, but Kami was not that kind of person.  Was he?  "I assume you do not know why Piccolo was burnt by the Lookout."

            "No," he answered, brushing the stated question aside.  He was missing something, something about why that _thing_ had taken off so quickly.  So close…but what was it?

            "The Lookout is a sanctuary, Goku.  A sacred place.  No demon or other evil can set foot on it without being repulsed.  If he had stood there any longer, it would have burned through him."  Kami's voice grew solemn once more as he continued.  "The more he embraces his demonic nature, the worse the effect will be.  If he was to come back here, you would have a great advantage."

            Advantage…_ Wait a minute._  Goku's mind raced, and he held up one hand to prevent Kami from interrupting.  _Advantage.  He's searching for an advantage over me.  He's faster now, but I'm still stronger, I think.  Then what would he be looking for?  He's got to know something, or else he wouldn't have taken off like that.  What is it…_

            An image of a younger Gohan's smiling face changing to an expression of terror abruptly appeared in his mind's eye, followed closely by his brother's wicked smirk, one that almost rivaled that of Piccolo Daimao.  Radditz had abducted his own nephew as an assurance that Goku would kill one hundred humans and leave their bodies on the sands of Master Roshi's island.

            Chi-Chi and Gohan, standing over him in the hospital and smiling down at him, a few days after his epic battle with Vegeta.  The very people he would give his life to protect were there, and he knew they were safe.  Never again would he leave them for such a long time.

            And the pit of Goku's stomach dropped at the same time his eyes widened.

            _Oh, Kami.  No._

            Kami was forced away by the sudden surge of _ki _around the Saiyan, and the resulting launch from the Lookout left him wondering what had occurred to make that man act in such a manner.  He seemed desperate, wasting no time, vanishing from sight in a fraction of a second.  What could it have been?  The last thing he had said to him was about his advantage.

            Then the Guardian happened upon the same train of thought that Goku had followed through, and he cursed in his native language.  "Fly faster, Goku," he urged quietly, though Goku would never hear him, "or they are done for."

            _This body is so fast, so strong, once it accesses all its power,_ Shadow thought as he glided effortlessly through the sky, feeling the cold, crisp air against his face for the first time in years.  No, wait, against Piccolo's face.  Ma Junior, or so he should be called now.  _It will be an amusing game, to see why Daimao's heir no longer embraces this part of himself once Son Goku is gone._  It was odd, flying so well without wings, or being able to inflict so much pain without cruelly-curved claws.  No matter.  The talons on the young demon would do just fine.

            He danced among the clouds for a moment, reveling in the agility of the form he had taken over.  They were black as pitch now, and heavy with moisture.  But it would not rain, not if he did not want it to.  This was _his_ storm.  He felt the corners of his mouth curl up over his fangs in a wicked smirk as he allowed lightning to streak across the sky.  It felt wonderful.

            It hadn't been that hard to seize control of the demon half of the boy, the demon mused.  It would have been much, much worse if the hybrid warriors had not made good use of their serums.  The young demon had mental shields stronger than his sire's smoldering gaze.  Shadow still found himself wondering how much luck had to do with it, rather than skill, but he dismissed the idea out of hand.  It was Ma Junior's fault that he had not been quick enough – or clever enough – to avoid being sprayed with a weakening serum.  Ah, but it had left him such a perfect opening, and he had never been one to miss out on such an opportunity.

            _Isn't that right, Ma Junior?_ he asked teasingly of the warrior imprisoned within his own mind.

            The response from the Namek was explosive, and Shadow grinned with his stolen mouth at his attempts to break free.  So pathetic.  Between himself and the Seer, he would never throw him out of his mind.  _You aren't answering me.  At least I was thoughtful enough to respond, be a good little voice inside your head.  Will you not do the same?  Return the favor, so to speak?_

            "Or do you respond only to force, or violence?  Yes, it would be expected of a son of Daimao, a prince of demons.  But you never were one to follow orders, were you, boy?"  A soft growl rumbled up from his throat.  "I know you are still listening, Ma Junior.  Or should I call you Piccolo?  No matter.  What do you think so far?  Do you like what I have done?  The changes that I have made?"

            He smirked again at the futile mental thrashing the Namek put up.  _Well,_ he supposed, _if I was locked in my own mind by something sent by _my_ sire, I would be pissed off as well.  Though I am growing weary of his outbursts._  He furrowed his brow at the rage and loathing the warrior emitted.

            "I thought you did not like Son Goku," Shadow mumbled.

            _Stop this madness, demon, _Piccolo finally growled.

            "So you have decided to speak up for once.  I was beginning to think you had given up."  He laughed as Piccolo raged behind his barrier.  "Or Son Chi-Chi, for that matter.  What do you think, boy?"

            _No.  You wouldn't dare._

            "I do dare, and I will.  She has spited your name long enough, Ma Junior.  She must be made to regret it."

            _Leave her out of this!  She has nothing to do with it!_

            "She has everything to do with it.  Oh, wait, that's right.  You don't want to hurt her, feel her blood on your hands as she shrieks for mercy on the cold ground, because of the brat.  The one who did this to you.  Son Gohan."

            Shadow shifted in the air and changed direction.  "You really ought to make him pay for what he has done to you.  Son Goku won't be there, and the boy should be easy enough to take on.  I think that is what we shall do.  What a game it would be…I might even give you temporary control again, as your hand delivers the fatal blow.  What would it be like, Ma Junior, to stare into the frightened eyes of the one being who cares for you as he sees who you really are, the betrayal that you have wrought?"

            _Leave him alone!_ the Namek screamed, pushing aside pride and his cold mannerisms in the face of the worst kind of danger.  _So help me, if you do anything to Gohan, I will rend your mind to pieces, then find the bastard who sent you and tear him apart!_

            "So you _do_ have some Daimao left in you after all.  There's hope for you yet, boy.  Let's get started, then.  How to turn a weakling into a true warrior…this shall be more amusing than I thought."  And Shadow tuned out the rest of Piccolo's threats as he drew ever closer to the Son residence.

            Gohan sat straight up in his mother's arms and stared out the hole in the roof at the stars above.  Off in the distance he heard the muffled roar that was the thundering of an oncoming storm.  Already it was getting colder, and he rubbed at his arms to rid them of their prickly feeling – though he doubted they felt that way because of the storm.  There was something very, very wrong heading their way.

            "Thank Kami, you're all right," Chi-Chi breathed, smiling gently at her only son.

            Gohan squirmed in her grasp, and she released him, only to have him lunge to his feet.  "Mom, you have to hide," he hissed.  "There's something coming, and it's not dad.  I can't…really…tell…who it is, but their _ki_ feels weird.  It's headed right for us."

            Chi-Chi pushed herself to her knees and frowned.  "How strong is it?" she asked.

            "Very strong.  Stronger than Frieza, I think, and almost as strong as dad.  But I'm not sure.  The _ki_…mom, it feels so familiar, but it's not.  I don't know."  Gohan stared at the door, almost positive that it was the place this unknown adversary would enter through.

            "If this person is really that strong, would it matter if I hid or not?  If they can sense _ki_, they already know I'm here."  Chi-Chi gritted her teeth when her son gulped.  "It won't matter, Gohan.  Tell me if you can sense your father."

            Gohan blinked.  "He's on the Lookout, I think, with Kami.  No, wait, he just left.  He's coming this way too, chasing the other big _ki_?  He is!"

            Chi-Chi sighed.  "How fast?  Who's going to get here first?"

            It was the child's turn to frown.  "The other guy," he muttered.  "He's so fast, he's even faster than dad.  That's not good."

            "How close are they?"

            Gohan gulped again.  "The other guy's almost here, mom," he said in a whisper.  "And he's very, very angry.  Dad's not gonna make it in time.  But…" his voice rose a notch with hope, "…Piccolo is close, too.  I think.  I can't feel him that well."  A frown settled on his face.  "I think he's hiding his _ki_.  Maybe he'll be here to help.  Krillin's moving around, too, by the Capsule Corp, if that's where Bulma and Yamcha are."

            Suddenly he gasped, and fell back into a lunge in front of his mother.  "It's here, mom.  Please, just hide."

            The foreign _ki_ spiked in front of the door, and even Chi-Chi was able to feel the presence on the other side of the flimsy wooden boards.  "No, Gohan," she whispered.  "He knows I'm here.  It's too late."

            With a protesting groan and a loud crack, the door was torn roughly from its hinges and a shadowed figure loomed in the doorway, black against the lightning that crackled through the sky.  "Yes, it is too late.  But it does not matter, you know, because I would have found you no matter where you went.  A small matter of retribution, I believe, is in order, Son Chi-Chi."

            _Kami, that voice is so familiar!  Who is he?_ she thought, kicking herself for her faulty memory.  "We don't want any trouble," the woman said boldly, more so than she felt.  "You should leave before my husband comes home."

            He must have caught the quaver in her voice, because he chuckled, a sinister sound that split the silence of the house as effectively as the thunder outside.  "But I _do_ want trouble," he said.  "You've been tarnishing my name for a long time, woman, and it's time to end that.  And as for Goku, he'll just have to miss our little party."

            Gohan scooted between this strange yet familiar figure and his mother.  "Leave my mom alone," he growled.

            "Don't get yourself involved, Gohan.  I do not want you dead yet.  If you knew what was good for you, you would have crawled up to your bed and hidden under the covers a long time ago."

            The boy narrowed his eyes and brought his fists before his face.  "I'm no coward.  Fight me, then, before my dad gets back," he challenged.  "Or are you afraid?"

            The figure almost hesitated.  Almost.  But then it laughed darkly and stepped into the light, enjoying the startled expressions on both woman and child.  "I warned you, boy.  This is not a fight you will win.  But if you feel inclined to die first, then so be it."

            Gohan watched helplessly as Piccolo's aura began to swirl around him violently, red and orange and black.  "Oh, Kami," he breathed silently.  "Piccolo, no…please don't do this."  But he knew his mentor was not listening, for as the Namek advanced he smirked, and Gohan knew it had come down to battle.  One decisive skirmish, and he had no idea why.

            He readied himself the best he could, keeping himself between the obviously enraged Namek and his mother, and hoped he would survive the initial rush.

* * * * *

*long, low whistle*  This chapter just ran away with me.  It was not supposed to be this long, but I suppose that doesn't matter much, does it?  Well, my exams are done tomorrow, so hopefully I shall have the next chapter up in a week.  Later!

~Dreamwraith


	28. Chapter Twenty Eight

**Disclaimer:** It isn't mine, I'm not making money on it, and I'm perfectly aware of all of it.  I'm just borrowing it for a while.

**Chapter Twenty-Eight**

            From the instant Piccolo had launched himself off the island, Krillin had known there was something amiss and had immediately gone into battle preparation mode.  Piccolo was not one to panic lightly, and anything that elicited such a reaction from him definitely counted as a threat.  So he did what he thought would help during a crisis situation: he began rounding up the rest of the Earth's defenders.

            The monk rushed back inside and dashed to the kitchen faster than Master Roshi and Oolong could stop bickering and gape at him.  He grabbed the telephone and frantically dialed the Capsule Corps private line, for friends of the family.  Yamcha picked up on the second ring, and it was all he could do to keep from wrenching the phone from the wall.  "Yamcha, it's Krillin!  I'm coming over!" the midget yelled.

            The ex-bandit grimaced.  Kami, that man could be loud when he wanted to.  "What happened, Krillin?" he asked.  "Is there a problem?"

            "Hello!  Can't you feel Piccolo's _ki_?  It's spiking all over the place!  Something's up with _him_, and I think it's pretty serious!  He was acting all weird and stuff on the island, and I don't know what the matter is!  I'll see you in a few!"

            Yamcha opened his mouth to say it was fine with him, but he would have been speaking to a dial tone.  He frowned, closed his mouth, and placed the phone back in its cradle.

            "Who was it, Yamcha?" Bulma called from the kitchen.

            "Krillin.  He said he's coming over."

            The scientist glanced up from her salad as the warrior joined her in the room.  "Why would he be doing that?" she asked, setting her fork down.  "He visits all the time!"

            Yamcha opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water.  "He says there's something wrong with Piccolo, and he went into panic mode over the phone."  The man tilted his head to the side, staring past the ceiling in what Bulma liked to call his _ki_-sensing pose.  "Krillin'll be here in a minute or two – he's really speeding along – but he doesn't have anyone with him.  Odd.  You'd have thought he'd try to find Goku or Tien, or even Chiaotzu."

            Bulma frowned at the same time Yamcha did.  "That's very odd.  Krillin's coming this way…Tien's not near anyone at all, except Chiaotzu…Gohan's with his mom…and Goku is with Piccolo – damn!"  The man's eyes snapped back into focus, and he appeared panicked.  "Their _ki_ levels are so high!  If I didn't know any better, I'd say Piccolo just got a hell of a lot stronger, and then decided to pick a fight with Goku!  But that's impossible, isn't it?"

            "You tell me," Bulma replied, studying her boyfriend's face carefully.  "I don't read _ki_, Yamcha."

            The man mentally kicked himself.  How had he missed those two before?  Between them they had enough _ki_ to make even the blind see, so to speak.  There was enough of it bouncing around wherever they were, likely the Lookout, that he was surprised the horizon hadn't lit up like a light bulb with it.  Not only that, but now that he had time to think about it, Piccolo's _ki_ did seem off somehow.  A bit darker than usual, though it was to be expected.  The guy _was_ a demon, after all, and it was nigh impossible to find a pure demon, much less one that was easily identifiable as being one of the 'good guys'.

            "Well, I _thought_ it would be impossible, but I think that's what's happening, wherever they are.  Their _ki_ seems too high for a bout of sparring."  Yamcha frowned again, in confusion this time.  "Now Piccolo took off.  This doesn't seem good, Bulma."  He exchanged glances with the scientist and humphed.  "I want you to take your parents and hide somewhere.  Take something to arm yourself with."

            "You sound like you're going after him."

            "I plan on it.  He's the second-strongest guy on Earth, Bulma.  If he's gone crazy, he won't hold anything back.  Goku will be.  He'll need all the help he can get.  He's following Piccolo now.  Kami, it's so hard to think of him as a demon again, after thinking of him as a Namek for more than a year.  I think we've taken him for granted for too long."

            Bulma caught herself before a sob could escape from her throat.  "If you're so set on going, be careful, won't you?  I don't think he'll take it easy on you because you're human."

            Yamcha chuckled and hugged her to him.  "Worry about yourself.  If Piccolo's turned psycho on us, there's no telling what he will do.  There are a lot of people that have rubbed him the wrong way, and he would go after them first."

            "Provided there's something radically wrong with him after all."

            "Right.  I'll wait outside until Krillin shows up, and then we'll both try to join up with them."

            "Good luck, Yamcha."

            The man paused before leaving through the side door.  "Thanks.  I'll be back when this is done.  Just don't forget to hide."

            Only then did Bulma realize that he never drank his water.

            Gohan barely pulled his arms up in time to block a fist that would have connected with the side of his skull.  "Piccolo, why are you doing this?" he cried, ducking under a second swing.  "What's happened to you?"

            "A sudden realization, brat," the demon snarled, swiping at the boy's face with one taloned hand.  "You and yours have done me more harm than good, and I mean to correct it."

            Gohan gritted his teeth as he jerked to the left, feeling his mentor's leg pass through the air next to him.  "What's wrong with your voice?"

            "None of your business.  You won't live long enough to find out now, and neither will your mother."  The demon knocked the demi-Saiyan to the side, the force of the blow hurling him through the table and into the wall.  "I warned you to stand aside, boy.  My plan did not involve you this soon."  Then he turned his gaze to Chi-Chi, who clutched one of her kitchen knives to her chest.  He frowned.  _I did not see her arm herself_, he thought in irritation.  _Perhaps my control of this body is not as solid as I thought it to be._  "So you want to play, do you?" he hissed.

            "This isn't a game, Piccolo!" Chi-Chi exclaimed loudly, though her voice was laced with fear.  She gave the knife an experimental swipe.  "I don't know what you're trying to pull, but Goku is going to be here any minute, and he'll wipe the walls with you if you don't leave!"

            Shadow chuckled at the woman before him, so obviously terrified and yet determined to hide it.  Most demons would have groveled at his feet to save their pitiful lives.  Most demons would leave their offspring to fend for themselves.  It was obvious she was doing neither, and he silently applauded her efforts.  "I do not fear Son Goku," he said.  "When I have full control, he will be no match for me."

            "What do you mean, full control?"

            The demon scowled.  He had let too much slip.  "This ends now," he growled, and he began charging a _ki_ ball in one hand.

            Chi-Chi felt her jaw drop, even as she gripped the handle of the knife tighter.  The incongruities of the past few days suddenly dropped into place like so many puzzle pieces.  "You aren't Piccolo, are you?" she whispered.  "You're someone, or something, else."

            "A clever one, aren't you?"  The _ki_ ball grew larger and took on a red hue, matching his glowing eyes perfectly.

            The woman tensed her muscles and shifted her weight forward.  With luck she would get one blow through to the demon before he reduced her to ash on the kitchen floor.  It had been many years since she had last used any weapon other than her fists, but she was not a warrior for nothing.  She had competed in the semi-finals of the Tenka'ichi Budokai, nothing to scoff at, and had gotten herself out of more than a few tangles after Goku had died.  She could do this.  She _would_ do this.  She had to.

            She gritted her teeth at the other warrior's mocking laughter and launched herself forward, aiming to wipe the smug grin off his face.  She inwardly smiled at the flash of surprise across his countenance, but she knew he would stop her.  She simply wasn't swift enough to score him.  Chi-Chi could hope, but she couldn't fool herself into believing she could hit him.

            Surely enough, the creature in Piccolo's form caught her wrist easily enough and forced her to drop the knife.  "Did you think you were accomplishing something?" he hissed into her ear, wrenching her arm painfully behind her.  She grimaced.  "You could not stop Piccolo years ago.  There is no possible way you can deter me now."

            "I might not be able to, but I don't have to."

            The demon puzzled the matter for a heartbeat, before his head was snapped back by a blow to the neck.  He growled as he lost control of the fully formed _ki_ ball, and it went careening through the Son residence and off into the night.  That was the _third_ slip of the night.  He could not afford any more.  First, the Lookout.  Second, giving away his secret.  And third, Son Gohan.

            He whirled around with Chi-Chi still in his grasp and scowled at the young demi-Saiyan, the expression punctuated by a particularly loud peal of thunder.  Apparently Gohan had not been deeply unconscious, as he'd thought.  The warrior was impressed, nonetheless.  The child had endurance and determination, and if he had been a hair stronger, the boy could have snapped his spine.  _Or perhaps,_ he told himself, _he was holding back._  After all, did he really want to kill his mentor?  "If you desire to die first, boy," he snarled, "I'll be more than happy to oblige."

            "I heard what you said, and you're not going to get away with this!"

            Shadow laughed.  "I don't suppose you think that _you_ shall be the one to release him, do you?  I feel obliged to inform you that there is no way of freeing the last child of Daimao.  For all intents and purposes, he is gone."

            "You lie!" Gohan shrieked, and flew straight into the demon, hammering at his chest.  He let the boy hit him.  The futile attack resounded through the room in the same way as a large drum.  The green man was surprised the boy had attacked, but reflecting on it later he should have known better.  Gohan owed his mentor a great debt, and his honor – for such a warrior must still have _some_, he was so young – would not allow him to rest until he had found a way to repay it.  At least that was what Ma Junior thought.  When the boy swung around behind him for another blow to the head, the demon grabbed his leg and slammed him into the ground.  Chi-Chi screamed.

            "That is _quite_ enough," he growled as the boy gasped for breath.  "I am through toying with you."  Almost absently he remembered that he still held the boy's mother, and he rolled his eyes.  Both Earthlings found themselves dragged through the remains of their door and into the night, one panting, the other trying to claw herself free of the creature's grasp while doing her best not to sob.  "I have other things to do, and I can ill afford to waste my time on you."

            Lightning crackled across the sky directly above them, and Shadow smiled despite himself.  A thought had just come to him, too tantalizing to dismiss.  Perhaps it would be best if he did _not_ kill Son Chi-Chi, he mused, and he chuckled.  Perhaps he should merely crush her, cripple her, so she would bear silent witness to the horror he would bring upon the Earth.  Come to think of it, it was an excellent idea.  He would make her watch her own husband die at his hands, his blood dripping between his fingers and making soft dark splotches in the ground…

            The demon grinned.  Sometimes he amused himself.

            To say Chi-Chi was startled when the thing in Piccolo's body dropped her was an understatement.  Her first reaction was to flee, but her immediate second was to stay and fight for her son.  As swiftly as she could she was on her feet and had aimed a kick for the green man's stomach.  Just as swiftly she was blocked, and with a bright explosion of color she was airborne.  The woman crashed through only one tree before slamming into a second past the yard, and she slid down the wood with a moan.  The crack she had heard was not the tree.

            The demon had barely executed the roundhouse before he felt two _ki_s nearing the forest, and himself.  "These humans…do they know nothing of staying out of matters beyond their control?" he muttered.

            Gohan decided to come to life then and tried to kick his knee back against the joint.  "You hurt my mom!" he yelped, the high pitch of his voice causing the demon to cringe.  Perhaps Daimao should fix that problem when he regained his material influence.  It certainly would not hurt.  Well, maybe a little, but by then Shadow would no longer be in the spawn's body.  "You hurt her!"

            "Fancy that."

            With surprising agility Gohan twisted in his iron grasp and sent a hastily-gathered _ki_ ball into the demon's side.  He roared and dropped the boy, and he wasted no time in distancing himself from the creature.  He made it halfway across the yard before the counterattack came, less than a second after the blast had made contact with the demon's skin.  Gohan's world turned red with the light of the furious _ki_ at his back, and he howled with pain as the return blast exploded upon his back.

            Shadow spat as the child crumpled.  "It's your turn, boy.  You're more trouble than you're worth.  I do not know what Ma Junior saw in you."  He started forward to finish what he had started when another voice interrupted him.

            "Leave him alone, whoever you are," Goku growled, landing just behind the other warrior.  "And get out of Piccolo's body."

            The demon whirled around with a dancer's grace and laughed to mask his embarrassment.  He had not noticed the other man's approach, even though Goku had the highest, most noticeable _ki_ on the planet.  "Or you'll do what?" he sneered.  "Hurt me?  Kill me?  Whatever you do to me, you do to Ma Junior's body.  If I die, he dies."

            "I know.  That's why I'm giving you the chance now.  Leave while you still can."

            He shook his head in wonder at the furious Saiyan warrior.  "This young demon once wondered why you offer every opponent you fight the chance to change, when deep down you know they will not.  What makes you so sure the situation has changed?"

            Goku dropped to a lunge and brought his fists on guard.  "I have faith in Piccolo.  If I know him, he's fighting you even now, and I don't think you can handle two battles at once."

            "You think wrong, Son Goku."

            The corners of Goku's mouth twisted into a grim smile.  "I doubt that."

            The demon also drew back into a defensive lunge, but the posture was so different from anything the Saiyan had ever seen that Goku frowned.  "Care to try it?" he asked, flinging his arms out briefly before resettling.  "You seem confused."

            "You look like a tree."

            Shadow snarled, any amusement he felt gone.  "It's a small wonder Daimao wants you destroyed.  You are a disgrace to warriors in all planes of existence."

            "You wouldn't know," Goku retorted.  "You're nothing more than a parasite.  Now quit talking and start fighting!"

            His words were lost in the colossal boom that accompanied the demon's first _ki_-charged strike, and then there was no more time for talk.  There was only action, reaction, and the blazing _ki_.

_North Quadrant: Earth's orbit_

            Space was dark.  Dark, but beautiful in its own wild way.  And clear, for miles in any direction the eye might choose to look.

            Vegeta's gaze was drawn to the surface of the planet he orbited.  Within the past hour a few major _ki_ storms had brewed down there, and even now he could see the faint glow of its use from his ship.  "What in blazes are you doing, Kakarot?" he grumbled, staring out one of the many windows off the deck.  "You're setting up a light show for the Earthling scum, that's what."

            The Saiyan prince scowled again and closed his eyes for a moment, reading the strong _ki_ on the planet below.  One of the two powers was Kakarot, he was sure of it.  The other he did not recognize, though it too seemed familiar.  He could not be certain of its identity, new at _ki_-reading as he was, but he was willing to stake his pride on it not belonging to any human.

            "What choice does that leave me?" he asked himself, twisting his eyebrows into a scowl.  "If whatever it is down there reads _ki_ as well, it will know I'm up here.  If it does not, it is none of my concern."

            At any other time, even while still in Frieza's army, Vegeta would have cursed and went off on his way.  But he was intrigued at what this new power might mean.  A new challenge, most likely.  But could it be the one to push him over the edge?

            Could this be the battle that would see the prince make the transformation to Super Saiyan?

            Vegeta smirked.  Foolish Earthlings, indeed.  He would never turn down a chance like this!

            He waded through the debris on the deck to the computer and entered the command that would send the Capsule Corp. ship back home, so to speak.  Then he leaped into his seat and strapped himself in, preparing for reentry.

            "This could be fun."

* * * * *

I wish you all a Merry Christmas, a Happy New Year, and the most fervent of hopes that you're not out sick for the holidays.

And a lot of chocolate wouldn't hurt, either. *grin*

~Dreamwraith


	29. Chapter Twenty Nine

I owe the inspiration for this chapter to two certain people, and to staying up 'til all odd hours watching Jeepers Creepers (1 and 2) and all the very cool extras.  And a big thanks to those of you reviewing.  I really do appreciate your input.

**Disclaimer:** Take a look at the URL some time.

**Chapter Twenty-Nine**

            Far overhead, a bright light streaked across the sky.  Yamcha blinked as he and Krillin drew ever closer to the colossal battle unfolding somewhere in front of them, most likely at the Son residence itself.  _That was no star,_ he thought anxiously.  _We can't afford any more Saiyan hybrids with the problems we have right now._  Another burst of _ki_ flared up before them, and the warrior forced himself back on task.  Now was not the time to worry about something like that.  They'd cross that bridge when they got there.

            "What are they _doing_ up there?" Krillin shouted back to him.

            "It feels like they're trying to beat the tar out of each other!" Yamcha replied, not sure if he was sensing what he thought he was sensing.  "Does something feel a bit weird to you?"

            "Yeah," came the midget's unenthusiastic response.  "I was hoping it was just my imagination again.  It almost seems like there's something else over there with them, and I don't mean Gohan or Chi-Chi.  It feels dangerous."

            "Malicious," Yamcha muttered, digging his fingers into the plastic of his water bottle.  The resulting crackle was not reassuring.  "We'd better hurry up," he exclaimed more loudly.  "I want to get there before something bad happens."

            "Like this isn't bad enough?" Krillin had enough time to remark, before the bandit closed the gap between them and passed him, taking the lead in a race neither wanted to win.  He forced himself to speed up as well, convinced something awful would happen if they weren't there for Goku _right now._

            Tien jerked awake from his restless slumber and stared up at the stars.  Someone had just entered the Earth's atmosphere, and he was certain he knew who it was.

            "What's the matter, Tien?" Chiaotzu asked drowsily.  "Who is it?"

            Despite himself, the ex-assassin chuckled.  _You've been watching for visitors yourself, haven't you, Chiaotzu?_ he thought, amused.  "Vegeta.  The Mighty Pain in the Ass has decided to pay the Earth another visit."

            "Why do you think he's here now?" the other telepath yawned.

            "Probably thought of something he wanted and decided to go for it, whatever it is.  I have a feeling Goku's gonna have his hands full."

            Tien sighed when he heard Chiaotzu shift himself, presumably sitting up.  "You have no idea," the emperor whispered, his voice soft with some emotion – fear? concern?  Was he having a premonition?  He could not tell, but he pushed himself up as well.

            "What do you feel, Chiaotzu?" he asked quietly.

            For a moment the emperor was silent, but when his voice broke the stillness of the night it brought with it a sense of dread.  "Something that should not have been released."

            What a fine mess this was.  Tien glanced over at the other warrior, half expecting him to be quivering with fear.  But the emperor was still wrapped in his bedroll like a cocoon, and he made no motion other than breathing.  He was staring out over the land at something off in the distance, but what he was looking at Tien did not know.  The man followed Chiaotzu's gaze to the horizon, but he found nothing of interest.

            Frowning, he tried a different approach.  Slowly he sent out his _ki_ in a gradually-widening circle, encompassing much of the hill they were on and part of the surrounding countryside.  Nothing.

            "You have to go farther than that.  I can't explain it, Tien, but try doing that around Goku.  You'll see what I found."

            The triclops complied, and no sooner than his _ki_ touched that of the people around Goku did he shake his head furiously and begin cursing.  "What _is_ that, Chiaotzu?" he asked incredulously.  "I don't think I've ever felt anything like it before!"

            "Yes, you have," the emperor replied calmly, maintaining his vigil over the horizon.  "About three weeks ago, in the company of Uranai Baba.  It's the same type of energy that attacked us, belonging to the same person or people."

            "Weren't they bound to their own realm?" Tien asked, frowning.  "I thought Baba held that creature there."  Memories of the beings he had seen while inside Piccolo's mind flooded back to him, and he shuddered.  Things with talons and wings and glowing eyes danced crazily in his mind's eye, centered around their horrific leader.  The stuff of nightmares, he remembered.

            "I think she got the leader, Tien, but his minions wouldn't have been affected."

            "Great," Tien replied sourly, berating himself again for not keeping a better eye on his planet.  "Then since we're the only ones that know what it is – or have a good idea of what it is – we should get going, right?"

            "Right."

            _Damn!_ Goku cursed, ducking around a fist that would have sent him reeling.  _Where are the others when you need them?_  He risked a glance at his motionless family.  Gohan would be fine after a few minutes, but Chi-Chi hadn't moved in a long time.  He didn't want to think of what that meant.  "Is that all you got?" he taunted, twisting himself around the demon's arm and flinging him away.

            _Oh, yeah, Piccolo, Gohan said you told him you could beat both me and him in a few days.  Care to give it a try?_

            _I think I will.  You'll regret it._

            Had that conversation taken place only two days ago?  Kami, it felt like ages had gone by.  But if that was true, this battle had lasted for centuries, the last strike he dodged decades, and the gathering of _ki_ for the next blast years.  Time was slowing for Goku, and he wasn't sure if he liked the feeling or not.  Judging by the wide grin on the demon-creature's face, _he_ was enjoying himself most thoroughly.

            "You are in no position to be making such demands on yourself, Goku," he hissed, dropping into a crouch and then immediately lunging forward.  The Saiyan had not expected a headlong rush, and the green-skinned warrior rammed one fist into his gut for his mistake.  Goku curled around the other man's fist and gasped before returning the painful blow with one of his own.  The demon bellowed and retracted the fist.  Overhead a bolt of lightning lanced across the sky, and the rumble that followed drowned out Goku's voice as he began gathering his _ki_ about him in a visible aura.

            Shadow scowled, straightening himself and wishing not for the first time that he had sharper claws.  He so badly wanted to wipe that smug expression off Goku's face.  What a fool this man was, thinking he could defeat the creature born to rid the world of him.  But as foolish as this man was, he had been right about one thing.  It was dreadfully hard to keep track of two battles at once, one physical and one mental.  The brat was unworthy to bear Daimao's own name and was doing a decent job of proving it.  With all the raging and screaming that demon was doing, it was a wonder he didn't have a migraine.

            _At least the young demon's language is up to par,_ he thought sourly.

            He circled swiftly around the Saiyan's back and squinted when the other warrior did not follow his movement as quickly as he should.  Something rang false with this.  He was hiding something.  He must be.  "What are you doing?" Shadow muttered angrily, directing his comment at both Goku and Piccolo.  He hurled a painful barb through the barrier in his mind and turned his attention back to the Saiyan.  "What is wrong with you?"  And his question was meant for Goku alone.  The demon flipped himself into the air and landed on the other side of the Earth warrior, and again Goku was slow to present his front.  Shadow squinted again.  That man was concentrating hard on _something_…

            A warning bell went off in the back of his head, and as a golden _ki_ began to crackle around the Saiyan Shadow caught the glimmer of a memory flashing through Piccolo's mind.  Snarling he reached for it, and when he saw what it was his eyes widened to the point of being comical.  Shadow took in the feral expression on Goku's face and growled.  The man must have been getting desperate for him to pull a trick like this, but he might not be able to handle it once Goku was stable.

            "No you don't!" the demon bellowed, rushing forward with one hand outstretched.  He could not allow Goku to gather enough power to complete the transformation to Super Saiyan.  Ma Junior had precious little information on the man in that state, and Shadow _hated_ going blind into a battle.  Again Goku was not expecting the rush, and the demon caught him across the face with his talons.  The Saiyan screamed and clutched at his face, simultaneously losing control of the _ki_ he had gathered, and it dissipated harmlessly into the night.

            Nothing was broken, Goku assumed after touching the ragged gashes, or even torn beyond his natural healing capacity.  But that had hurt, and in more ways than one.  He must stop thinking of that _thing _as Piccolo; certainly he did not act like the Namek, and the fighting styles of the two were very different.  Another mistake like that and he could lose more than a bit of blood and his pride.  He glared up at the demon from between his fingers, blood leaking from the wound between his fingers and over his hands, and he was certain the creature relished this.  The very thought of it made him sick, Saiyan blood irregardless.

            Goku lowered his hands from his face when he heard the demon's sharp inhalation.  "What in Kami's name is going on here?" he heard a familiar voice ask, and his stomach dropped.  _Krillin, get out of here!_ he silently begged his friend.  He might need the midget's help, but not enough to risk his life!  Not now, of all times!

            "Piccolo, what are you doing?" a second voice gasped, identified a second later as Yamcha.  _Go!_ Goku pleaded.  _You can't handle this!_

            Krillin felt his jaw drop open and made no move to close it, and beside him Yamcha did the same.  Piccolo's eyes were glowing a bright red, and the fingers of his right hand were smeared with Goku's blood.  At least he assumed it was Goku's; it was red, and Goku was bleeding.  The Saiyan looked like he'd been on the receiving end of a nasty beating, which also shocked him.  "Yamcha," he said hastily, "watch yourself."

            "Watch yourself, Krillin," Shadow hissed, smirking at the bewildered expression that fluttered across the midget's face.  "You are more vulnerable than he is."

            "Krillin, Yamcha, I want both of you to stay back!" Goku commanded, taking a few steps to the side so he stood between his friends and the possessed warrior.  "That isn't Piccolo any more.  He's someone else, now!"

            "What are you talking about, Goku?" Krillin asked, gulping as the demon caught his eye and gave him a twisted grin.  "He's not himself, I know, but he can't be someone else!"

            Yamcha took in Piccolo's appearance and noted the subtle differences in the Namek's demeanor.  Piccolo had never seemed as open as he was now, his facial expressions unguarded and his manner loose.  He even stood differently: his weight seemed to be more centered, rather than shifted forward on his feet.  Yamcha frowned; Piccolo of all people would have known that he would have better balance and more coordination and control when his feet weren't flat on the ground.  Keeping his weight on his toes would let him move faster when he needed it.  Maybe Goku wasn't right about Piccolo's identity, so to speak, but whatever the case, something _was_ amiss, and they would have to do something about it.

            "I don't think he's lying, Krillin," Yamcha said quietly.  "Whatever it was that we felt out here is coming from Piccolo.  It's him, somehow."

            "Clever boy," Shadow growled.  "You are correct in assuming Ma Junior is present, but he is otherwise occupied, you might say."

            "I told you to let him go!" Goku roared, his _ki_ spiking in anger.  "Stop hiding behind him!  Fight me face to face, demon!"  Again the Saiyan's eyes began to flicker back and forth between teal and black.

            "Son Goku," he replied coolly, "if I fight you face to face, it will not be in this plane, but my own.  And _that_ is under the assumption you survive this battle."  His eyes flicked to a sudden motion off to the side, as Gohan's hand twitched.

            _Damn,_ Shadow thought angrily.  _The boy is coming to.  I should have known that a hybrid would not be so easy to fell.  Isn't that right, Ma Junior?_

            _I will scorch your mind if you so much as lay a hand on him again!_ Piccolo promised.  _I will find a way to do it!_

            _Doubtful,_ the demon scoffed.  _You cannot find your way out of your own mind._

            Piccolo said nothing in reply, and Shadow let him be.  He had other matters at hand.  In one fluid motion he removed both cloak and turban and tossed them to the ground.  He would need his full agility soon; he could feel three other _ki_s approaching, one of them high enough to cause him problems if its owner teamed up with Son Goku.

            Goku flew forward with a shout, and the demon twisted to the side.  The Saiyan managed to flip himself at the last second and swung his fist as hard as he could at the other warrior.  Shadow had enough time to open his mouth in denial before the blow struck home, and he felt more than one rib give way under the impact.  Snarling, he fell back, Goku following.  He hit the ground and skidded for several yards before he was able to put his hands down and flip himself over.  Instead of rushing forward as he usually did, he flung himself to the ground and smothered a groan.  But the burning in his midsection was nothing compared to what would it would have been if he had attacked, he decided as a _ki_ ball sailed over him.

            _That's it,_ Shadow growled to himself.  _I'm through playing with this man.  I have more to do than this._  With a snarl the demon rolled to his feet and spat out a mouthful of blood.  "I'm glad you finally decided to get serious about this, Son Goku.  This little game was becoming boring very fast."

            Goku gave him a crooked grin, but his eyes never once leaving the demon's face.  "This never was a game," he replied.  "But I'm done warming up now.  So whenever you're ready."  He waved the other warrior on and planted his feet firmly in the ground.  He meant business.

            Yamcha took a step back and reviewed the situation.  Chi-Chi was barely visible in the tree line, and Gohan was actually on the field.  Neither were moving, so Yamcha assumed they had been knocked unconscious.  He kept his expression neutral, but inside he was boiling.  Either Krillin or himself would have to get to the both of them when this creature – he was almost positive now that it wasn't Piccolo – was distracted.  Even as he formed his own strategy Yamcha studied the Namek.  The warrior hadn't taken his glowing eyes off Goku's face this entire time, and it was unnerving.  If he was Goku he would have been trembling.

            He told Krillin of his plan.

            "Are you nuts?" the smaller man gasped.  "That won't work!"

            "It has to, Krillin!" he whispered.  "Once Goku and Piccolo – I mean, that thing – start fighting again, we've got to get Chi-Chi and Gohan out of here.  You can grab Gohan, you're quicker.  I'll get Chi-Chi.  I don't know what shape either of them are in, so just be careful when you get there."

            "And what if he catches me?"

            "We have to hope Goku will be quick enough to stop him from doing that.  And besides, Tien and Chiaotzu aren't too far off, and someone else is coming in pretty fast.  I think it might be Vegeta, as weird as it sounds, but I can't think of anyone else with that kind of _ki_.  Hopefully he's on our side this time.  So we won't be in the open for long."  Yamcha paused briefly.  "We've got to do this, Krillin," he added.  "Or that thing might decide to get rid of his clutter."

            Krillin's face blanched, but he nodded in agreement.  "All right," he said, "let's get this over with as – "  A dull boom drowned out the rest of his sentence as the battle was resumed, more fierce and intense than before.  Neither human was willing to tear his eyes from the spectacle.  The Namek (or demon) was keeping pace with Goku with broken ribs, and the Saiyan was partially blinded, unable to wipe the blood from his eyes without the other warrior taking advantage of his distraction.

            When Goku smacked the demon into the trees they knew it was time to move.  With a sideways glance Krillin and Yamcha took off at the same time.  Krillin had almost made it to Gohan's side when his vision suddenly exploded into color.  Something had hit him…he was aware of the wind whistling by his ears, and then he slammed into the ground, sending up a spray of dirt and grass.

            "Krillin!" Goku shouted, whipping his head around and following the midget's flight path with his eyes.  His eyes watered once the brilliant red-hued light of the _ki_ ball had faded.  _I should have seen that coming!_ he thought angrily.

            _As you should have seen this!_ replied a smug voice in his mind.

            Goku turned his head back in time to catch sight of the demon's blurred outline hurdling through the air at him, and he crossed his arms in front of his face.  If he had known how strong Piccolo could be, should have been, he would have prepared himself better.  But it was too late now, and all he could hope for was that Piccolo could stop himself from plowing straight through him.

            A look of surprise crossed the demon's face as his stolen body pulled short at the last minute.  He still slammed into Goku, but the force was only enough to send him flying.  "Damn him," Shadow growled softly.  The Saiyan was most likely injured, but he would have been dead if Ma Junior had not interfered.

            Yamcha gritted his teeth and dashed away from Chi-Chi, making sure the demon noticed him.  With Goku and Krillin both down for the count, it was up to him to hold the thing at bay until help arrived.  But judging by how much trouble Goku had with him, Yamcha knew he wouldn't last for long in a fight with him.  He didn't have the strength or the _ki_ to do it, but he would give it his best shot.  "I'm over here!" he yelled, drawing the demon's attention.  "They can't harm you when they're down!  Leave'em alone!"

            The creature in Piccolo's body laughed, and the bandit shuddered despite himself.  _Kami, what a horrible laugh, _he thought.  _I'd forgotten how evil Piccolo could sound!_

            "I was planning to leave you until the last, Yamcha," he offered, favoring him with the same smirk Piccolo always used, "but you've insisted on crossing me now.  Why is that, human?"

            "Because what you're doing is wrong!" Yamcha replied angrily, balling his hands into fists.  "You're using Piccolo to get to us!  You're not even strong enough to challenge us on your own.  You had to steal a body to do it!"

            "Not true," came the hissed answer.  "I am here for Son Goku.  You stand in my way, I kill you.  Understood?"

            Yamcha narrowed his eyes and shifted his weight forward.  If it came down to a fistfight, he would rather initiate it and have the element of surprise.  "If you're trying to intimidate me, it isn't working.  I won't let you do any more damage here, even if it kills me."

            "And it probably will," the demon agreed.  "So why don't we just get this over with?"

            "Yamcha, stop!" Tien called suddenly from behind him.

            "No!" came Goku's muffled voice from the forest.

            The demon raised his hand to create another _ki_ ball, when he was hit by a shade as dark as himself, illuminated briefly as a black and white blur.  The warrior sent the demon sailing into the trees, and Goku rushed out to confront the newcomer.  Shock was an understatement.

            "Vegeta?  What are you doing here?"  The man scratched the side of his head, carefully avoiding the talon gouges.

            "Kakarot, you idiot," the Saiyan prince snapped, "I was trying to decide why you were giving the Earthlings a light show with the Namek.  I could see it from space."

            Yamcha heaved a sigh of relief and stepped back, where he was pulled out of the fray by Tien.  Only then did he realize how badly he was shaking, and if it wasn't for the other man's support he would have fallen over.  At the triclops' questioning stare he mumbled, "Watch," and their attention turned to the jade-skinned warrior emerging from the tree line.

            "Saiyans to the rescue, is it?" the demon growled.

            Goku began gathering as much _ki_ as he could, as quickly as possible.  "This ends!" he snarled, to Vegeta's surprise.  What was the fool intent on doing? he wondered.  Surely this was just a spar gone wrong, or the Namek had been knocked around too many times, or something similar to that!  Wasn't it?

            Vegeta's jaw dropped as Goku burst into Super Saiyan.  _The idiot is really serious about this!_ he thought, growling to hide his embarrassment.  _He thinks the Namek deserves this level of combat!_  "Kakarot," he snapped, "what do you think you are doing?  The Namek is a weakling!  Don't waste your _ki_ on him."

            The demon began laughing, but Goku's face remained impassive.  "It isn't Piccolo, Vegeta," he replied.  "And even if it was, I would be just as guarded.  It would be best if you stayed out of this."

            "You're joking," the other Saiyan growled.  "Of course that Namek is Piccolo, idiot.  What are you trying to pull?"  Vegeta took one look at the green warrior and spat at his feet.  "He's no challenge for you, and certainly none for me."

            Goku spared the man a glance as he stepped forward.  "Trust me on this one, Vegeta," he said gruffly, shifting his eyes back to the demon.  "This isn't what it seems!"

            The prince scoffed.  "Obviously.  You're even weaker than I thought, Kakarot, if you've let the Namek give you such a hard time.  Super Saiyan or not, this is one fight you should have had no problems with.  You're pathetic."

            Goku snorted and prepared himself to jump in front of Vegeta if necessary.  The other Saiyan had no clue what he was getting himself into, or if he would be able to get himself out again.  _It's that damned pride of his!_ he thought angrily, screwing his face into a scowl.  _He can't see that Piccolo isn't there!_  "Vegeta, I mean it!" he growled, drawing a raised eyebrow from the other Saiyan.  "You can't win this battle!  You're not strong enough to fight him!"

            Vegeta, equally furious now, replied, "The day I am too weak to grind the Namek into the dust is the day I'll die!"

            Piccolo – or what appeared to be Piccolo, at least – twisted his face into a cold mockery of Vegeta's own expression.  "Then you won't be disappointed, Vegeta.  It's high time you died anyway.  You've been obsolete for the last twenty or so years, haven't you?  Since Frieza took you from your holding cell and declared you useless before his ship and crew?"

            The Saiyan bristled at the comment, and Goku watched in amazement as Vegeta's face ran a gamut of emotions, from anger to bewilderment to alarm.  "How did you know that, Namek?" he demanded quickly.  "I don't recall telling you anything of the sort."

            The green man chuckled darkly.  "You don't need to, Saiyan.  I know everything about you.  How you would cry yourself to sleep for years, until Frieza caught you.  You can still see the blood in your eyes at night, can't you, Vegeta?"

            "Shut your damned mouth, Namek, before I shut it for you!" Vegeta replied through his teeth, clenching his hands into fists so hard the skin under the gloves began to bruise.  "I think I'll just kill you on principle!"

            The other warrior threw his arms apart in a gesture of acceptance.  "You're welcome to try, prince of a race not worth mentioning."

            Goku found himself tempted to wipe the gleeful expression off the demon's face, and he was dead certain the other Saiyan was going to lunge for him at any moment.  It would be torture for Vegeta to remain inactive under such taunting.  It was hard enough for him to restrain himself, so hard to remember that Piccolo was in there somewhere.

            "How dare you!" Vegeta bellowed, tensing his body.  He was fast reaching the limit of his patience now, and Goku found himself taking a step back, away from the furious Saiyan prince.  He did not fear Vegeta, but even someone at a lower level of power could do some serious damage if pressed far enough.  And from the looks of it, the demon was about to press him too far.

            _But isn't that what he wants to do?_ Goku asked himself, watching the demon's eyes carefully.  _Piccolo did that to Morodath, and he blew his concentration so fast he never knew what hit him.  Damn!  If he gets any angrier, that _thing_ will have his head!_  "Vegeta, drop it," he hissed, stepping forward again.  "Can't you see that he _wants_ you to attack him now?  You're not thinking!  He wants your mind clouded!"

            "Damn it, Kakarot!" the other Saiyan roared.  "To Hell with your nonsense!  The Namek has gone too far!"

            Shadow grinned despite himself, ignoring Piccolo's furious outburst.  _This is entertaining,_ he told the Namek.  _He is most fun to provoke._

            Piccolo spat back a stream of obscenities that would have made Daimao proud.

            _Don't tell me you would not enjoy messing with his mind, young demon?  This one has spited you as well.  It would be well worth the time it would take to tear his mind apart.  He may be a challenge._

            _This is the last time I warn you.  Leave these people alone!_

            _He's a pain in the ass, nothing more, Ma Junior, and you know it.  Don't tell me you would not enjoy taking him down, putting him in his place!  This one is too proud for his own good.  Perhaps he would be more fit to grovel at your feet, broken and submissive._  "You are right, Vegeta," the demon continued.  "Perhaps I _have_ gone too far.  Perhaps your race is worth mentioning after all, seeing as how it was their own foolishness that brought their fiery death down upon their heads.  They make a good example.  But they went down fighting, at least, a warrior's death."

            "Don't listen to him!" Goku exclaimed quickly.  Vegeta ignored him, intent on the demon's words.

            "But you, you had none of it.  You were not fit to join their final battle, oh powerful prince.  You sat in the safety of Frieza's ship while your people screamed in pain."  Shadow smirked.  He was so close… "You are nothing more than a pampered house-pet.  You have done nothing to deserve what you have been given."  The demon turned his body away from Vegeta and faced Goku, though he still addressed the smaller man.  "Leave and let the real warriors fight."

            Goku made a grab for Vegeta's shoulder and missed.

            "Enough!" Vegeta roared, launching himself fist first at the green man.

            Shadow bit back a grin.  Finally, this could be settled, and there would be no more Saiyan opposition.

* * * * *

This is, to date, the longest chapter I have written.  I apologize for any disappointment, but the Saiyans get their tails handed to them next chapter.  *ducks rotten tomatoes*  Feel free to let me know if this was _too_ long, and I'll knock it down to size.

~Dreamwraith


	30. Chapter Thirty

Thank goodness for manga…I'd never remember attacks or events without it.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dragonball Z.  I'm merely borrowing it for a while.

**Chapter Thirty**

            Goku did not have the chance to join Vegeta in his frenzied battle.  The smaller Saiyan was surprisingly agile, and both he and the demon in their unpowered states were going at each other with a ferocity that Goku marveled at.  But whereas Vegeta wore the deep frown of intense concentration, the creature in Piccolo's body smiled coldly.  Goku knew for certain that if he tried to jump in now, the demon would either throw Vegeta to the side and go for him or finish his fight, here and now.  The Saiyan had no doubt that this thing had the power to kill Vegeta at any time…he was toying with him, like a cat that has cornered a mouse.

            But Vegeta was no mouse, and the demon would be left weak and defenseless after the massive offensive that would be required to bring him down.

            Or would he?

            That was the problem.  Goku knew Piccolo's limits, and they had already been surpassed.  He could not imagine the kind of power this demon had brought him, if he was fighting Vegeta evenly with broken ribs and after trying to take down Goku himself.  For once, the Saiyan had little to nothing to go on, and he did not like it one bit.

            And worse, what might be required to take care of this situation was the death of the demon, which would mean killing Piccolo.  Even if they were somehow able to drag it out of the Namek's mind – Chiaotzu's field, not his – there was the good chance he would take Piccolo with him.  Either way the Namek would not survive the encounter.  The thought of this happening left a sour taste in the back of Goku's throat, but it seemed to be growing more and more likely with every series of attacks launched, and if anything, it would have to be done soon.  Vegeta was tiring quickly.

            "Fight me to my face, Namek!" the Saiyan in question bellowed, snapping Goku out of his thoughts and dragging his attention back to the battlefield.  Vegeta whipped himself about, his eyes darting across the yard to find his opponent.  "How _dare_ you challenge me and then hide behind my back!"

            Goku swept his teal eyes across the same expanse and caught no motion.  He could feel Tien and Chiaotzu behind him, and with them was Yamcha, and Krillin.  He frowned.  He thought Krillin had been knocked out.  One of the guys must have grabbed him.  One down, two to go.  No one had gone after Chi-Chi and Gohan.

            "Ha!" Vegeta crowed triumphantly, an enormous _ki_ wave bursting forth from his hand and roaring across the ground to his left, scorching the grass and drawing a startled yelp from the demon.  It was cut off all too soon when he retaliated and knocked Vegeta's feet out from under him.  Vegeta turned the fall into a roll and managed to avoid a small but intense _ki_ ball fired from the demon's hand.  "Is that all you've got?" he taunted.

            _Don't say that!_ Goku thought miserably, glancing at Chi-Chi's limp form.  He needed to get her away from those two, but his glowing golden hair and aura weren't exactly conducive to sneaking about.  He'd have to wait until they were fully occupied and hope she was not harmed further.

            Shadow laughed right back and loosed his _ki_ for an instant, the force pushing Vegeta back several yards.  "Son Goku said that before.  Take a look at him now."  He silently began gathering his _ki_ to him, and Goku took this as his opportunity.

            Vegeta scowled and crouched down.  "Kakarot is of no concern to me, Namek.  You've dug your grave.  Now go lie in it."  Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of Goku as he dashed to Chi-Chi's aid.  He did not let on that he saw anything.  Why should he?  Foolish Kakarot's idiotic friends were of no consequence to him.  Hell, the pathetic weaklings probably pissed their pants when the Namek changed the color of his eyes.

            The Saiyan jumped straight into the air and flipped himself over the green man before shooting off a _ki_ ball of his own.  He had no need to use anything major yet, but he was slowly storing away _ki_ for just such an occasion.  He was also reasonably certain that the Namek, or whoever he was, was doing the same thing.  Vegeta landed slightly off-balance and jumped up and back with his momentum.  He came to rest on one knee and ready to defend himself.

            "Impressive," came a voice from behind him.  "Did you learn that from Frieza?"

            Vegeta clenched his jaw and whirled around.  Shadow leaped back to avoid the fist that would have buried itself in his gut and grunted.  "I told you to shut your mouth, Namek, or you won't have one for much longer!"

            "Is that an invitation to stop messing around?"

            The Saiyan froze and stared at the demon.  _Is he kidding? _he thought fiercely.  _I've done just about everything but bring out the heavy artillery, and he speaks of toying with me?  Last time I checked, the Namek was barely strong enough to challenge me, but I'm close to going all-out and still he mocks me!_  He felt rage beginning to bubble up inside him like a pot set to boil, and it was comforting, familiar.  "Do not mess with me, Namek!" he growled.

            Shadow humphed.  "I can't see why you're considered royalty," he told the other man.  "Even Goku varies his threats.  It's sad, really.  A 'third-class' fool has more to his vocabulary than his prince."

            "That's _it_!"

            The demon hid his grin as Vegeta lunged forward again.  This would be done all too soon.  _It's too bad this will not last much longer, and worse that you aren't enjoying yourself, Ma Junior, _he told the Namek.

            He mentally blinked when Piccolo said nothing in reply, gave no indication of ever hearing him or that he was even paying attention.  No matter.  He needed to pay attention to Vegeta anyhow.  If the Saiyan prince had still had his tail, its fur would have been bristling.  Shadow smirked.  The poor man really had no idea what he was up against.

            Vegeta screamed and began powering up rapidly, throwing the _ki_ he had gathered throughout the fight into the aura that was fast forming around him and lighting the yard up like a torch.  The demon concentrated his _ki_ about himself as well, but he did not need to vocalize his progress.  Half of it had already been gathered.  In the corner of his vision Shadow could see the three standing humans raising their arms to their faces and forming shields of their own against the debris the warring fighters were flinging around.

            It barely took a minute more before Vegeta raised his hands in front of him and gathered all the _ki_ he could muster into them.  "_Gyarikku-ho!_" he screamed as he felt the energy tear through his body and out his hands towards the green man.  His strongest attack, he had used it against Goku the first time they'd fought, and given a bit more power he would have killed the other Saiyan.  He only used it against his strongest opponents, and when he had the _ki_ to pull it off.  The Namek would be toast.  He had to be, with an attack of this caliber.

            Piccolo caught it easily and held it.

            He realized that something was amiss when his gaze met the other warrior's hard stare, and he felt his jaw drop open.  _What?_ he thought crazily, gritting his teeth and pushing more _ki_ into his attack.  _How is the Namek doing this?  There's no _way_ he could become this strong in one year's time!_  He glanced over at Goku, and he felt a chill run up his spine.  The other Saiyan had done just that.  Was it so implausible that a Namekian warrior could do the same?

            Vegeta suppressed a shudder when he met the Namek's gaze again.  He had not seen eyes that cold since he had fought against Frieza and locked himself in a power struggle he could not win.  There was something of madness in those eyes, both Frieza and the Namek, and he couldn't determine why.

            His eyes grew wide with horror as the Namek squeezed his hands together and destroyed the _Gyarikku-ho._  In the glittering remnants of the _ki_ attack he saw the other warrior grin, baring his fangs, and this time he did shudder.  _What _is_ this thing? _he thought rapidly, taking a step away from what he had been positive was Piccolo.  _The Namek _never_ could have done this!  _Kakarot_ doesn't even have that level of control!_  His mind went into overdrive, trying to sort out the pieces of the puzzle that had just exploded in his face.

            Vegeta barely registered the Namek's movement as the green figure blurred to the right and disappeared.  It was only by chance he was able to throw himself to the side before the fist aimed for his spine swiped through the air beside him.  He might have heard the air parting behind him, but he did not have time to ponder the thought further as that same fist connected with his jaw.  His head snapped around, and he twisted his body with the violent motion to minimize damage.  That had actually hurt!

            By the time the Saiyan prince realized what he was up against, it was too late for him to do anything about it.  If Piccolo did not have the upper hand before, he certainly had it now.  Vegeta hit the ground several yards away and rolled twice before the Namek was in front of him.  He grimaced at the hard kick to his gut, and he was thrown back again.  Piccolo vanished and reappeared directly above him.  Vegeta quickly flipped over and caught sight of the Namek driving both knees into the patch of earth he had just vacated.  That would not have been good, he determined, flinging himself to the right and to his feet.  Piccolo answered the gesture by driving his fist deeply into the Saiyan's gut.

            Vegeta gagged and spat out a mouthful of saliva.  He clutched at the Namek's arm to keep him from breaking through skin, and the green man grabbed his shoulder with his free hand and tossed him aside.  The Saiyan skidded along the ground and gasped, but he forced himself to stand and fight.  His pride would allow no less.

            Shadow snorted at the sight of the injured Saiyan prince.  "You seem to be less confident, Prince Vegeta," he said mockingly.  He darted forward and around the other man before cuffing the side of his head and knocking him down again.  When Vegeta struggled to his feet he was sent flying into the trees by a roundhouse kick, which turned into a flurry of hard blows when he met the prince on the other side of one particularly thick tree.  "Is this what it felt like, Vegeta?" the warrior hissed, halting the onslaught long enough to grab the front of his shirt and slam him back into that same tree.  He pressed forward until his face was a handspan from Vegeta's, and he could see blood bubbling from the corner of the prince's mouth.  "Is this how you felt when you challenged us for the first time?  Was it exhilarating, knowing you were the strongest of the strong and unable to be beaten?"

            Vegeta's mouth worked to form words, but no sound came out.  Snarling, Shadow pulled him from the tree and threw him towards the yard.  The Saiyan made no attempt to catch himself, and he landed in a heap on the ground he'd scorched only moments before.  "Is this how being the strongest feels?" he growled, advancing on the prone form of the shorter warrior.

            The world around them shrank until it encompassed only Vegeta and the demon, the others forgotten in this loaded moment.  The short battle had come down to this, the moment the outcome would be decided, where nothing mattered except the here and now, and neither the human witnesses nor the mighty Super Saiyan could interfere.  As Vegeta had said so many times in battle, this was it.  This was the fateful, all-consuming moment both warriors had anticipated, and it only had one ending.

            Vegeta raised his head and locked gazes with his opponent.  Shadow saw disbelief there, and humiliation and anger, and what he thought might even have been a glimmer of fear.  "What…are you?" the Saiyan whispered, his harsh breathing loud in the crisp night air.  "You are no Namek."

            He was rewarded with a crooked smile.  "Ma Junior is a Namek _and_ a demon, Vegeta.  It is not difficult to conceive the idea of you defeating a warrior that used only half of his full potential, is it?  No matter.  You'll know soon enough."

            Vegeta grimaced to hide his surprise and confusion.  He had no idea who this Ma Junior was or what he had to do with Piccolo, but he _did_ know when a battle came to a close.  And judging by the way the other warrior held himself, the careful manner in which he moved now that heavy combat was done, either he or Goku had hurt him – and he would pay for it.  The Namek was bleeding, and it would only be a matter of time now.

            This Ma Junior that Piccolo claimed to be raised one hand and concentrated some of his sparking _ki_ there.  "Did you know, Vegeta, that the souls of those killed by a demon cannot reach the Afterlife?  I believe it's time I found out whether or not Ma Junior is ready to embrace himself."

            _Damn it, _Vegeta thought weakly.  He could do nothing more, and already the edge of his vision was darkening.  _At least I won't be awake to see his ugly face._  He braced himself for the lethal attack he knew would come, but the Saiyan's strength was spent and he blacked out before the other warrior could deal the final blow.

            Thus he was spared the sight of a blazing golden _ki_ wave racing towards the demon above him.  Shadow, however, whipped his head around when he heard Goku's hoarse cry, and he got an eyeful of it before it hit him.  Desperately he swung the hand that held the gathering _ki_ ball around and threw his half-formed attack in the way of the wave instead, but it did not deter the blast and he was forced to dive out of its way.  The _ki_ wave caught his side and hurled him once more across the yard and into the shadows of the tree line.

            The Super Saiyan dashed forward the instant he heard the demon grunt with the force of the attack.  He knew the other fighter would emerge soon; he hadn't meant his attack to be lethal, but as a diversion.  His ploy worked, but what now?  So Goku had saved Vegeta's life.  So he'd been able to get Chi-Chi over to the other warriors, crawling inch by inch so she would not be injured further.  What would he do when the demon came out again?  How could he buy his friends the time they needed to escape?  And worse, how was he going to get Gohan off the field?

            The humans, all but forgotten in the scuffle that had erupted, were standing together as a group and watching the spectacle fearfully, but they had no intention of leaving Goku alone with that…monstrosity.  Yamcha might not have been thrilled with confronting the demon one-on-one, and he certainly did not want to repeat the experience, but if needed he would not hesitate to attack.  Chiaotzu knew he would not last long in hand-to-hand combat, but if the thing that had taken over Piccolo was distracted, he and Tien could try to oust it themselves.  And Tien knew he was the strongest of the humans, and as such he could not let Goku fight alone.  The battle might be raging now, but if there was an opening he would take advantage of it.

            As expected, Shadow emerged angrily from the trees – knocking two of them out of his way – and saw Goku setting himself in the middle of his yard.  "Touching," he growled.  "But all you've done is postpone the inevitable."  He allowed his aura to flare out around him fully, and the clearing that had once reflected the soft golden glow of Goku's aura now deepened into a brilliant red-violet hue.

            Goku narrowed his eyes.  "Your fight is with me, demon.  Remember that."  Behind him he heard Krillin stir and groan as someone – presumably Yamcha – helped him sit up.

            Shadow came to a stop not too far from where Gohan lay, and Goku felt himself twitch involuntarily.  With that demon so close to his only son, and without Piccolo to save the day if something went wrong, the Saiyan was nervous.  He could focus on the other warrior as long as Gohan stayed down, but if the boy woke up…

            Shadow caught a glimmer of the man's last thought, and he smirked.  _Did you hear that, Ma Junior?  If the boy wakes up, the 'invincible' Son Goku can be destroyed.  I imagine he can be destroyed if anything happens to the boy as well._  He blinked when Piccolo did not respond vocally, but he colored his mind with rage and forced it at him.  The demon hissed and pushed it back.  He did not need that kind of distraction.

            _So, he depends on the boy staying down, does he?_ he hissed to himself.  _Then let's remedy that._  Shadow found the mental link between mentor and student, foster-father and son, and followed it to its end in Gohan's mind.  Tentatively at first and then with more force he began to exert a pressure on the link, urging the boy to awaken.  _Gohan!_ he whispered with Piccolo's voice.  _Gohan, wake up!  We need you!_

            Slowly the child responded to his mentor's prodding, and he responded quickly.  _Piccolo?  Piccolo, are you all right?_ Gohan asked groggily, his mind clouded.  _What's happening?_

            _Wake up, kid!_  Shadow put enough inflection into the phrase to make it sound like Piccolo was in pain, and that was what did the trick.

            Gohan's eyes flew open, and he sat up straight and gasped.  The demon was beside him instantly, an evil grin on his face.

            _Oh, Kami, what did he do?_ Goku screamed to himself.  "Gohan!" he called anxiously.  "Don't move!"

            "Wha-?  Dad?"  Gohan closed his eyes as something lifted him off the ground by the front of his shirt.  He heard his father's voice, but it sounded farther away than it would have if he was the one picking him up.  Was it Piccolo, then?  What was his mentor doing?  His vision was still fuzzy.  He blinked blearily a few times to clear it and then cried out when the face before him came into focus.

            The demon sneered at him, his eyes smoldering with anger and his fangs bared in a toothy grin.  "Good evening, brat," he growled.  "Glad you could join us for the entertainment."

            "P-Piccolo!" he squeaked.  "What are…"  Then he remembered what had happened, how this thing who wore his mentor's body had attacked his mother and himself, how he had thrown his mother away like a rag doll, and he gulped.  "Don't!"

            Shadow turned his stolen head towards Goku and smirked.  "See your child, Goku," he exclaimed.  "See him and remember, as the father killed the father, so shall the son kill the son."

            Goku's eyes widened with fright for the first time in years.  _Kami, he's referring to Daimao!  No, he can't!  He won't do it!  He _couldn't _do it!_  But his own soul betrayed his thoughts, and he knew deep in his heart that if Piccolo had no control over his body he could never stop the demon from murdering Gohan.

            The demon whipped his body around and kicked Krillin in the face, halting his furious charge forward and sending him flying through the air again.  The midget landed in a heap at Goku's feet, but the Saiyan couldn't tear his eyes away from his son.  He tensed his muscles for attack, but the other warrior dug his talons farther into the boy's skin.  Gohan's cry of pain forced Goku to freeze again.

            "The mighty Super Saiyan, the man responsible for the death of the most powerful being in the universe, cannot even save his own son," Shadow growled lightly.  "It is ironic, is it not?"  His gaze swept the group, from Vegeta, who was beginning to stir, to Yamcha, Tien and Chiaotzu, who all wore identical expressions of anger and helplessness, to Goku, who looked ready to explode.  His vision rested on the glowing Super Saiyan, and he smirked again.  "You are unable to charge to the rescue.  If you do, I kill him.  If you stand there and do nothing, I kill him."

            His voice lowered to a rumble, but Goku was still able to hear him.  "You do not know how wonderful this feels," Shadow said harshly.  "What pleasure it brings.  I hold your world in my hands, Goku.  Now I know how you felt at the Budokai, that wonderful little rush when you learned you were the best of the best.  Goku," he hissed, and suddenly he was beside the Saiyan, inches from his face and still holding a terrified Gohan, "have you ever heard your wife scream?"

            Goku shook himself out of the red haze that clouded his vision and gaped at the demon.  Had he been thinking, he could have landed the blow that would have finished the battle for good right then and there.  He was a Super Saiyan, and the other creature had not mustered his full strength.  But he was torn and confused, and above all wishing those words had not just come from Piccolo's mouth.

            "It was music to my ears.  It has been so long since a human has shrieked in terror because of me.  She sounded…terrified.  Did you know she was calling for you, even as I dragged her into the night?"

            _Control yourself!_ Goku thought fiercely, shaking himself violently again.  _It's all lies!  It's not real!  Don't listen!_

            And suddenly the demon was out of reach, as if he had realized the danger he had placed himself in.  "How about your son?  Have you ever heard your boy shrieking in fear, Goku?"  He let those words sink in before continuing, and Goku felt something inside him tear.  "Would you care for a demonstration?"

            Gohan stared up into Shadow's withering gaze and whimpered as the demon traced a talon along the side of his face, drawing blood from the resulting scratch.  "Piccolo, stop it!" he wailed.  "_Please _don't do this!  Make it stop!"  Inwardly the boy was crying while the Earth's defenders stood frozen in fear, but he knew it would mean his father's death to let his weakness show.  _Piccolo!_ he cried silently.  _Help me!_

            Something in the Namek's link with the boy twinged, but Shadow paid it no heed.  He pulled his other fist back, the muscles in his arm bulging as he prepared to send the demi-Saiyan in his grasp through the forest and out the other side, but the hand holding Gohan spasmed and he dropped the boy.  The demon scarcely had time to growl out his bewilderment when he crumpled to the ground before his astonished victim-to-be.  His legs would no longer hold his weight.

            His mind began to ache as the Namek threw down his hand and hurled everything he had at the demon.  He howled in pain, and Gohan scrambled back

            _What are you _doing_? _he snarled at Piccolo.

            He hadn't expected an answer, and he was not disappointed.  Furiously he beat at the barrier he had set up around the Namek to keep him from regaining control, but it did not give way.  _Damn!_ he hissed.  _Ma Junior must have found a way to reinforce it!_  On the outside the Earth's defenders stared incredulously at the warrior digging his talons into his head, but inside Shadow attempted to discover what Piccolo had done to him.  _Damn you, brat, what have you done?_

            And this time, as he waded through the rage and desperation the Namek threw at him, he received his answer.

            _I told you to leave them alone._

            Gohan cringed as the demon before him fell onto his knees and elbows and cradled his head in his hands.  His frightening aura shrank, leaving Goku's golden _ki_ to illuminate the yard.  He was shuddering with the effort of fighting off something he couldn't see and mumbling something in a language Gohan did not recognize.  "Piccolo?" he whispered, twisting onto his knees and inching forward until he was an arm's length away.  "Is that you?"

            He almost did not hear the muffled reply.  "Kid," came a familiar gruff voice, "get out of here, and do it now."  The jade-skinned warrior lifted his head, and Gohan's own dark eyes met the red-tinged eyes of his mentor.

            "Piccolo!" he exclaimed softly, jumping forward and catching the Namek in a hug.  "You're back!"

            The Namek did not return the embrace but jerked back violently.  He lowered his head and grunted, which worried the boy.  Gohan knew his mentor was not one to vocalize pain, and that grunt was probably the closest he'd come to doing just that – unless he screamed.  "It's only temporary," he told the demi-Saiyan.  "You should leave, while I can still hold him."

            Goku approached the two as Gohan placed his small hands on the Namek's shoulders and choked back a sob.  The boy had no words to express the turmoil he was feeling.  "Is that you, Piccolo?" Goku called cautiously.

            The Namek turned his head, and the Saiyan smothered a gasp before it could escape his parted lips.  His eyes weren't glowing red, but they were coming pretty close.  If Piccolo had had any control at all, it was coming dangerously close to breaking.  "For now," came the cryptic reply.  "I don't have much time.  I wasn't too careful in clawing my way out."  A ghost of a smile crossed Piccolo's face, only to be replaced by a grimace as he jerked again.

            "What happened?" Goku asked anxiously, crouching down beside his son.  "What do you want us to do?"

            Piccolo locked eyes with the other warrior, and Goku could read the emotion in them, even if Piccolo could not voice it.  In the depths of those onyx orbs he saw the price the Namek had to pay to force his way out.  He saw how desperate he was to rid himself of this abomination, and he saw to what lengths he would go to do it.  "Find Kami," the Namek finally growled, "or the witch.  If they can't help, wait for the demon to slip and kill him."

            "What?" Goku yelped.  No matter that he had considered the same thing.  It was entirely different coming from the mouth of the being that would die with the demon.  "There has to be some other way!"

            Piccolo glared at him and clenched his teeth.  "Listen to me.  Daimao wants me to become Ma Junior again, the demon that would have destroyed the world.  He sent someone to merge that with what I am now, and it's working.  If you don't do what I say, he'll use my full strength to wipe you out of existence.  _You have no choice._"

            Gohan buried his face in the Namek's shoulder and sobbed.  Piccolo dropped his gaze and made a choked noise that, in another person, would have matched that cry, and Goku closed his eyes sadly.  He did not want to be the one Piccolo entrusted this burden to, but like he said, he had no choice.

            Piccolo roughly pushed Gohan away and wrapped his arms around his stomach.  "I'm out of time," he whispered, and slowly he lowered his head to his knees.

* * * * *

Okay, so Riven kicked in with a vengeance.  This chapter is exactly twelve words longer than the last one.

The _Gyarikku-ho_ is Vegeta's Gallic Gun; he has no other named attacks (that I know of) before turning Super Saiyan.

Just for the record, I laughed so hard at everyone's reviews.  Thank you so very much…I needed that.  I hope I didn't disappoint you.  And if I did, there's still some time to remedy that. *evil laughter*  But really, thanks for sticking with this monstrosity thus far.  I hope you enjoyed this chapter.

~Dreamwraith


	31. Chapter Thirty One

This chapter I have an apology for.  I wrote myself into a corner and had to tear the whole chapter apart – it would have been done a while ago if that didn't happen.  That, and the fact that I've had to reformat all of my chapters to fit whatever FFN's done with it.

**Disclaimer:** *points to URL* Say it with me: FANFICTION.  I own it not.

**Chapter Thirty-One**

            Goku wondered why Piccolo held himself in such a prone position, until the Namek's words forced themselves to the front of his thoughts again.  He was making it easier for Goku to kill him.

            _No!_ Goku shouted, at himself and anyone or anything that could read minds.  He would _not_ take such an action until he was certain there was no other way.  He would go to Kami, to Uranai Baba if he could find her, and find out what he could do to drive the demon out of Piccolo's body.  There _must_ be a way to do it.  Goku watched as the Namek took a shuddering breath and then gasped, as if he had been held underwater for too long and had just broken through the surface to gulp in as much fresh air as possible.  "Gohan," he said quietly to his wide-eyed son, "get back.  Go back to Krillin and your mother.  This isn't something you can handle."

            Gohan nodded wordlessly and scrambled away, keeping his eyes on the trembling form of his beloved mentor.

            From the green form below him came muted laughter, and the Namek's arms unwound themselves from around his midsection.  "That was a good trick, Ma Junior," the demon hissed to himself, digging Piccolo's hands into the ground.  "But it will not be repeated."

            "That's right," Goku growled, his _ki_ flaring up around him once more as anger set in.  "You're not going to be in there long enough for Piccolo to try again.  I'm putting an end to this right now!"

            Shadow twisted his stolen head around and scowled at the other man, fixing his glowing red eyes on the Saiyan's own teal orbs.  "I think not, Son Goku.  That's not on the agenda."  Slowly he pushed himself to his feet, hissing softly as one of his ribs popped back into place.  "It will never end.  Once I am done with you and the rest of the pathetic weaklings that stand in my way, Daimao and Ma Junior will open the door to Hell.  This is only the beginning, Goku, and you are one of the privileged few to see it."

            "I won't allow it!" the Saiyan snapped.  His breath hitched as his side spasmed suddenly, but he crouched down nonetheless.  If he could make one hit connect, one strong blow to the midsection, the demon would probably collapse.  He wasn't in good shape anyway, with broken ribs and injured limbs; it would be the best chance Goku would get to immobilize him and send someone off for Kami.  Then they would be able to free Piccolo and get rid of this creature… _Stop counting your chickens before they're hatched, _he thought sternly.  _You still have to hit him._

            The demon's muscles bunched as he prepared his own strike, and Tien watched as the warrior rushed at Goku.  The Saiyan looked ready for it…

            But the triclops noticed how the demon's balance seemed off.  His brow furrowed.  The demon should not be able to hold a frontal assault like that.  The posture gave him no balance.  It looked like he was going to fall over…or spin completely around his opponent, giving him access to an unprotected neck and spine.  Tien's eyes widened.  Even as the demon came at him, the Super Saiyan gave no indication of knowing the other's intentions.  If the other fighter was able to get a strong enough attack through – and it was almost guaranteed to happen if Goku did not know what was going on – the Saiyan would be badly injured, or worse.

            A well-placed fist could kill even the strongest of men.

            And judging by the maniacal grin on the demon's face, he knew it, too.

            All these thoughts crossed Tien's mind in roughly a second, and before that second was up he was already running toward Goku, gathering his _ki_ to him.  Chiaotzu's startled cry followed him.  The emperor reached into the ex-assassin's mind to learn what the other man had discovered so abruptly, and only a breath before Tien's own attack went off did he scream, "_Close your eyes!_"

            Shadow did the opposite, and he cursed mentally when he saw the three-eyed human's hands come up on either side of his head, the fingers splayed and his own eyes squeezed together.  He had forgotten about the humans again, and he would pay for it this time, he knew.

            "_Taiyoken!_" Tien shouted.

            Both Goku and Shadow howled with pain as the blinding light illuminated the yard and seared into their vision.  They clutched reflexively at their eyes, wiping away the tears that streamed down their cheeks.  The demon was unable to stop his rush, and he collided with and bounced off the Saiyan.  Goku went down like a ton of bricks, but Shadow caught himself with one hand and knee.  _All right,_ the demon seethed silently, _they can have time to regroup.  I cannot fight blind, not against them all._

            He opened his mind to the _ki_ of the other warriors and was not surprised to find Tien powering up.  With a grunt he heaved himself off the ground and into the air, cursing his luck and the Seer for not teaching him how to dispel such an unnatural light.  If the Earthlings wanted to delay their death, so be it.  They would not defeat him upon their next encounter.

            Shadow threw one final ball of _ki_ in the triclops' direction before he rocketed away.  He could leave them be for an hour or so.  He just had a brainstorm…and it might be enough to keep Daimao from killing him for his error.

            Goku cursed as he felt the demon leave and dropped out of the Super Saiyan state.  He hadn't heard Chiaotzu's warning in time, and he was caught in the blinding light as well.  He chuckled softly; at least the other warrior hadn't hurt him in the collision.  Thank Kami the Namek was fairly light, as fighters go.  If he had been a Saiyan the extra body mass could have done some serious damage.  It was still embarrassing, though, being knocked over like that.  There was something about being toppled over like a wall that bruised the ego.

            "Are you all right, Goku?" Tien called from off to his right, the voice coming from behind him and moving forward, presumably because the triclops was approaching him.  He sounded shaken.

            The man groaned and sat up.  "For now.  You?"

            "Alive."  Goku blinked a few times, and the silhouette of a man slowly came into focus before him.  "He threw a _ki_ ball at me.  It came too close for comfort."  The outline of the figure blurred.

            After shaking his head violently, Goku was able to make out Tien's face in the fading light of the attack.  "Why'd you go and do that, anyway?" he asked.

            The man frowned.  "You didn't see that?"

            "See what?"

            "Goku, that creature was planning on breaking your neck!  How couldn't you see that?  He was off-balance, for Kami's sake, getting ready to flip around!"  Tien pivoted on his heel and walked off a short distance.  _Did this Super Saiyan transformation do something to him?  He's acting like he's forgotten all strategy and reason in battle!_ the man thought.

            _I noticed that too, Tien,_ Chiaotzu replied.  _He acts normal when he's not in that state, but once he gets there he becomes too cocky.  He reminds me of Vegeta, in a way._

            _Except Vegeta is always arrogant, and he can keep his wits about him when he's fighting.  At least I think he can._

            The emperor chuckled mentally, and Tien smiled.  _At least someone put him in his place, even if it wasn't exactly Piccolo,_ he commented._  He'll probably need a senzu bean, too._

            _Do we have any with us?_

            _I don't.  Goku might._

            Tien turned around and caught sight of Goku crouching down beside Vegeta.  The smaller Saiyan was conscious once more and grumbling something at Goku.  The triclops could catch bits and pieces of the conversation, hearing the names 'Kakarot' and 'Ma Junior' but not more than that, and short of tapping into one of their minds he would not know what they were talking about.  Did he want to?  Or, more importantly, would it hurt anything if he did?

            Apparently not.  The human smirked and focused in on Goku's mind.  If the Saiyan knew something, he wouldn't be keeping it a secret for much longer.

            "Kakarot, what are you babbling about?" Vegeta growled, batting away the younger Saiyan's extended hand.  "The Namek is not several hundred years old.  I've seen the Namekian elder, and that creature I fought against is nowhere near that age.  You're not fooling anyone."

            "That's not what I said, Vegeta," Goku replied quietly, his voice hardening in frustration.  "I said that when I was younger, I defeated Piccolo Daimao, the Demon King.  He was trying to bring down Hell on Earth.  Before he died, he spat out the egg with Piccolo in it.  Piccolo Junior, _Ma Junior._  He was supposed to kill me and start the merger between Hell and Earth, and he didn't."

            Vegeta grunted.  "So this Daimao creature is trying to turn your planet into a demon's paradise, is that it?"

            "I think so."

            "So then why isn't he doing it himself?"

            "He can't leave Hell."

            "Then why are you panicking, Kakarot?  So the Namek has decided to have a little fun.  Good for him."

            Goku growled under his breath, but he looked beneath the other man's bravado and knew, just knew, that Vegeta was frightened.  His encounter with the warrior had nearly cost him his life, and he would never forget it.  "It isn't Piccolo now, Vegeta," he said, gritting his teeth.  "I'm sure he said something about being a demon, Ma Junior.  Piccolo is Namekian and demon both…when I fought him, he was more demon and nearly killed me.  When you and Nappa fought him, he was not using that half of himself.  Think about it."  The demon's words echoed through Goku's mind, and he winced.  "We only fought against half of him.  Daimao sent something to force the two parts to merge, and it took over Piccolo's mind.  That isn't Piccolo in there any more, but a demon in control of his body."

            Vegeta took note of the subtle ways in which Goku's demeanor had changed.  When talking about the Namek he slowly grew more tense, sounded more vicious, more like a man sizing up his enemy in combat.  But the Namek was not Kakarot's enemy, was he?  Or had some drastic changes taken place on Earth while he was away?  The Saiyan prince was not certain.  He didn't think so, but that did not always count for anything.  "So how strong is the Namek now, Kakarot?" he snapped.  "How is it that you left him standing?"

            Goku shook his head and sighed, some of his anger abating.  "I don't know how strong Piccolo has become, acting as a whole.  I don't think we've seen the extent of his power, but it isn't impossible to beat him.  Piccolo got free for a short time, and he wanted me to ask Kami for help."

            "Get to the point."

            "Will you come with us to get the information we need?"

            Vegeta froze in the middle of a snide remark.  He glared at the humans, all of whom – save the woman – were staring expectantly at him, before turning his cold gaze on the other Saiyan.  The other warrior meant what he said, and the unspoken addition.  _We need your help, too, Vegeta.  We need your strength._  Else why would Kakarot have told him of the Namek's new power?  Why would he have even bothered?

            His scowl twisted into a smirk.  "You'll need someone to fight while you baby-sit your precious humans, Kakarot.  And I owe this creature."

            "So is that a yes?"  Goku returned the smirk with a grin of his own.

            "Idiot."

_Hell_

            "Shadow has done well, has he not?" the Seer asked, careful to hide its gaze from the demon lord beside it.  Daimao was well on his way to a foul mood as it was.  It would be best if he did not find out how close to losing control of the situation Shadow had been.

            "If you ignore the fool's blundering, yes," the elder demon growled.  "How could you have a scout whose memory does not extend to sacred ground, Seer?  Even Ma Junior cared not to set foot on the Lookout, as did I.  As _do_ I, for I intend to walk the Earth again soon.  Explain this to me, before I do something about it.  Something he will not forget."  Daimao gestured to Shadow's body, seated upright against the side of the Seer's hut.

            The other demon gulped.  "Shadow must have been caught up in your child's power, Demon Lord.  That is all.  He would not forget his training so easily."

            Daimao grunted.  "See that he does not.  My power on Earth must be extended further before I can contend with the Saiyans myself, if Ma Junior and your protégé do not kill them first.  The way must be opened for Hell-On-Earth for my power to be absolute."

            "But can you not handle these Earth warriors yourself, Demon Lord?" the Seer asked cautiously.

            The demon lord snorted.  "Here, yes.  Hell is _my_ world, _my_ realm.  I have told you this once before.  Here, I am in control.  No one can match my power, for I can draw upon the very evil of the souls imprisoned here for strength.  But without this realm extended to Earth, I am nothing.  Is that clear to you?"

            "Yes, Daimao," the other demon answered automatically.

            "Good."  Daimao stepped closer to Shadow's body and crouched down next to him.  "But to be sure your lackey understands this…"  He allowed his voice to fade as he pressed one talon to the smaller demon's cheek and allowed the tip to sink into the yielding flesh.

            The Seer winced and lowered its eyes.  Bloodshed in battle was one thing, as was death and blood sacrifice required for a spell.  Disfigurement and the drawing of something so vital, so alive in this place of the damned, so _warm_, was another matter entirely.  It was not fond of that practice.  What a waste it would be.  And besides, it would attract all manner of minor demons to its hut, including those annoying imps.

            Daimao dragged his claw through Shadow's cheek, tracing down his jaw line and leaving a trail of blood in his wake.  Though the darker demon was not mentally present, the body still twitched and jerked under his touch.  The elder demon continued to etch his own mark into the flesh of his face and did not move back until the bleeding stopped.  Then he stood up and began a set of gestures the Seer recognized as a transmission spell.  Daimao wanted to speak with Shadow, it assumed.  What else could the demon lord want to do?  If he harmed Shadow now, Ma Junior would regain control and force the demon out, and the plan would be ruined.

            The demon was torn from his thoughts by the other's warning growl.  "Seer," Daimao hissed, "I want you to find out what he is going to do."

            It blinked.  "May I ask why?"

            "Do as you're told and listen.  If your protégé fails to come up with a decent excuse for running, I will remove him from my presence and you with him."

            The Seer winced but nodded nonetheless.  It translated Daimao's words as you-will-both-be-killed-unless-you-can-make-this-work.  When did its role in this plan move beyond being Daimao's eyes in the realm of Earth?  When did it lose control of the situation?  Its tail lashed behind it in agitation, but it stood up and came forward to do the demon lord's bidding.  With any luck, it would still be able to come out of this peculiar mission unscathed, and Daimao would keep his word and leave it free of his wrath.

_North Quadrant, Planet Earth_

            Shadow fumed as he flew low over the forest.  Damn it…he had been so close, and then to have missed the three-eyed human?  He was ashamed of himself.  No, more than ashamed.  He was absolutely mortified.  What quality did this body possess that it was able to distract even himself from the matter at hand?  Was it the power Ma Junior contained, or was it something more?

            His thoughts were interrupted when the pain hit him.  A shriek escaped from his lips, and he clutched at the side of his face while trying to keep himself airborne.  A blade, digging into the side of his face with all the malicious force of an otherworldly being!  Shadow came to a sudden stop in his flight and hastily lowered himself to the ground, before the pain blinded him.  What trickery was this?

            The demon considered tormenting Ma Junior further, but an inner voice told him the brat had nothing to do with it.  Who was it, then?  Another stab in his cheek caused his breath to hitch, and he dropped to his knees, pressing the flat of his hand into his skin.  Then he realized what was happening, and he paled ever so slightly.  To ignore a summons… "I'm listening," Shadow hissed softly, lowering his gaze in deference even though no one was likely to be watching.

            _Daimao is not pleased with you._

            The demon grimaced and pulled the hand away from his cheek.  There was no blood on his palm, but he was certain there was something there.  It stung.  "I know, Seer."

            _He wishes to know what you intend to do now that you are no longer in combat._

            Shadow smirked despite himself.  "I am going to the Lookout and ridding the Earth's defenders of a most precious commodity."

            He felt more than heard the Seer's dark chuckle.  It had made the connection.  _I see.  Daimao will be most pleased that you have thought of this.  Pleased enough, perhaps, to reconsider putting you to the death for your lapse._

            He held his breath while the Seer seemed to consider something else.  _Your face has been marked by Daimao,_ it said after a moment.  _Your physical body bears his sign.  Ma Junior will bear the mark on his face until you are no longer needed to maintain control._

            Shadow sighed softly and pushed himself to his feet.  "I am honored.  May I continue on?"

            _You may.  Speed and stealth, student mine._

            "Speed and stealth."

            The demon leaped lightly into the air once the connection was severed.  He had lost valuable time, and he cursed himself for his error.  _Never again,_ he swore to himself as he sped toward the floating sanctuary.  He pushed himself hard enough to reopen wounds earned in battle, but he did not halt.  He would regain his edge over the Saiyans, and then there would be no stopping him.

            Shadow's aura flared up in the dark sky, and the _ki_ trail he left behind soon dissipated.  By the time the Earthlings learned of his plan, it would be too late.  They would have already lost.

* * * * *

Perhaps I should have laid off the sugar... I should be sleeping.  It's well after one in the morning.  I hope I'm quicker with the next chapter – and that I'm not typing it the night before a Physics exam.  I blame the muse.

~Dreamwraith


	32. Chapter Thirty Two

I probably should have said this last time, but _Taiyoken_ is the Solar Flare.  I apologize if I confused anyone.

I apologize so much for taking so long to update.  These last few weeks have been pure mayhem, and hopefully the next few shape up to be better.  But on the upside…

Nameks rock. ^^

**Disclaimer:** *points to URL*

**Chapter Thirty-Two**

            The Saiyan prince smacked Goku's hand as he tried to help him to his feet again.

            "Are you going to be all right, Vegeta?" Goku asked, backing up a step and giving the smaller man room to move.  "Will you be able to fight like this?"

            Normally, Vegeta would have had a sarcastic remark at his lips, but he thought better of it and said nothing.  He inhaled sharply as he rose to his feet, pressing a hand to the base of his ribs.  The creature that wore the Namek's body had done a good job of rendering him useless, and he and that fool Kakarot both knew it.  "What kind of question is _that_?  It is not a matter of whether or not I _can_ fight, Kakarot," he snarled, startling the concerned fighter, "but if I _will_.  You, of all people, should know that."

            Goku blinked.  "Would you like a senzu bean?"

            Vegeta was about to ask what that was, before a fleeting image of a small brownish bean being tossed to him crossed his mind's eye.  _That_ thing, the bean that healed injuries.  His Saiyan mind then kicked in at high speed.  _The potential of the bean!_ he thought, true to his devious nature.  _If I can force one of the humans to tell me where Kakarot obtains these things, I would have an unending source of energy!  My _ki_ would skyrocket after every training session!  I would be invincible!_

            Goku shook his head at the crazed expression on Vegeta's face.  The other man looked like he had just emptied an all-you-can-eat buffet table.  What on Earth could he be thinking about?  "Vegeta?" he asked again, poking the Saiyan prince in the arm.  "Are you sure you're all right?"

            Vegeta snapped out of it soon enough.  "Do _not_ touch me, Kakarot," he snapped.  "I do not need your help or your pity.  I can stand perfectly well on my own."

            _He's acting like a spoiled brat,_ Tien silently commented to Chiaotzu.

            _Petulant child is more like it._

            _Same difference._

            "Positive?"

            "Kakarot, I will not need your help until I am bleeding to death on the ground!  And even then, I don't want you touching me!"

            Goku grinned at the prince's act.  "All right, all right!" he exclaimed, waving his hands in the air and shrugging away from him.  "But you have to survive the flight to the Lookout.  You've never been up there, have you?"

            "Kakarot, I do not live on this planet," Vegeta said, gritting his teeth.  "I do not know where you and the other pathetic Earthlings keep their toys."  If only frustration could push one over the edge to Super Saiyan… _If I wasn't in this position, I'd try it right now,_ he thought.

            "Then you're gonna have to follow me.  It's about five-ten minutes if you fly top-speed and a lot longer if you walk.  So if we hurry up, we can get to Korin's Tower and get some senzu beans for everyone."  Goku's expression turned thoughtful.  "Come to think of it, I could use one, too."  He raised one hand to his face and softly touched his torn flesh.  The bleeding had almost stopped.

            "I thought you said we were going to this Lookout for information!"

            Goku grinned at Vegeta.  "Korin's Tower is right below the Lookout.  You know what I meant."

            _Idiot,_ Vegeta growled inwardly.  _I don't make a habit out of studying the geography of every insignificant planet I happen to land on._  "Then when are we leaving?"

            Goku glanced over his shoulder at Chi-Chi, and his smile faded as swiftly as it had appeared.  "As soon as you're sure you can fly.  Chi-Chi needs help, and you and I need to be at our best if we run into that creature again."

            Vegeta snorted.  "More likely than not he'll be the one finding us, Kakarot.  Now hurry up.  I'll manage myself."

            Goku flashed him a thumbs-up – which irritated the prince to no end – and dashed over to the small group of humans.  Chi-Chi had yet to stir, and that concerned him greatly.  Gohan held her head in his lap, whispering comforting words that she could not hear.  Yamcha rested his chin in his hands as he sat beside them, shaking his head and thanking Kami nobody had died in the encounter.  Chiaotzu floated off to hover by Tien's side, and the two men waited expectantly for Goku to say something.  The Saiyan cleared his throat, feeling the weight of their eyes on his back.

            "We need to get to the Lookout, guys, before he decides to do something else."

            Yamcha met Goku's gaze squarely.  Of the human warriors, he was the only one to actually converse with the creature that had done so much damage.  And come to think of it, disturbing as it was, he had the most in common with the creature out of all the Earth's defenders – Vegeta did not count.  They both knew how to fight dirty, they both utilized those skills, and they both knew how to best cripple the target.  Yamcha knew all this from experience, from the time when he still raided towns and hailed the desert as his playground.  The creature inside Piccolo was trained so those skills were his second nature.  If nothing else, the ex-bandit was keenly aware that the warrior would be planning something.  Something that would hinder them, drastically lower their chances of ever defeating him.

            Something that meant the world to his target.

            Yamcha could do the math.

            Goku's eyebrows rose as he watched comprehension dawn in his friend's eyes.  Then he was knocked back on his rear when the older man leaped to his feet.  "Goku, we have to go, now!" Yamcha yelped, charging his _ki_ in preparation for flight.  His sudden actions drew exclamations of surprise from the other warriors.

            "What's going on, Yamcha?" the Saiyan exclaimed above the din.

            The scarred man shot Goku an incredulous glance.  "Goku, _think_ about it!  That thing must've come here to kill your family when you chased it off the Lookout!  And if it has access to Piccolo's mind, it knows all about us…our strengths, our weaknesses, everything!  It's gonna be trying to regain its edge, Goku!  Think!  What's at the Lookout?"  His voice had risen to a frantic pitch as the words rushed out of his mouth, and it took a few seconds for the Saiyan to piece the words together.

            As shock set in, the Saiyan managed to gasp out "No!" before he, too, gathered his aura to him.  He did not waste his time in leaping into the air and flying away in a blaze of power.

            "_Kakarot!_" Vegeta bellowed, readying himself to spring into the air.

            Gohan gently set his mother down on the ground and stood up.  "Vegeta, wait!" he called.  "I can take you there."

            "You've never been there, Gohan!" Tien interjected before Vegeta had the chance to open his mouth.  He shot the Saiyan prince an open look of distrust.

            "I'll manage, Tien, thank you.  But I can follow Yajirobe's _ki_, and if I had to, Kami's _ki_ can't be too different from Piccolo's."  The boy had no need to voice the fact that he could follow his father's _ki_ as well, and Tien did not press the matter.

            The triclops humphed and folded his arms across his chest.  At least the boy had manners.  "Then you had better get there as fast as you can.  We'll follow with Krillin and your mother."

            Gohan nodded once and sprung into the air.  Vegeta grumbled about having to follow the spawn of a third-class idiot, but the two Saiyans were mere specks in the distance not long after.

            Yamcha, still ready for flight, leaned over and carefully scooped Chi-Chi into his arms.  "You grabbing Krillin?" he asked Tien, glancing up at the triclops.

            "Yeah, I'll get him."

            The ex-bandit turned his eyes to the faint _ki_ trail left by the two Saiyans and the even fainter line left by Goku.  Kami, he hoped they beat that thing to the Lookout.  Their lives might depend on it.

_Korin's Tower_

            Korin could feel his whiskers curling.  There was something dark on its way to his tower, and he was not pleased.  He wasn't quite sure of the person's identity, but he was certain it was someone he knew.  "Nah," he grunted under his breath.  "Probably some upstart martial artist who feels like challenging the owner of the tower."

            Yajirobe grunted in agreement behind him, a noise accompanied by slurping and squishing as he tore into another piece of chicken.  Korin smiled.  _What a slob,_ he thought.  _Why do I keep him around, anyway?  Oh, wait, that's right.  He's the one who grows the Senzu beans.  Who'd have thought it?_

            A stray breeze gusted up the side of the tower and brushed the cat's fur back against his head.  He purred.  That felt wonderful…

            Something tingled in the back of his conscious mind, some vague sense of danger that he could not pinpoint, and his purr deepened to a threatening growl.

            "What's wrong, Korin?" Yajirobe asked around a mouthful of rice.  "What is it?"

            The martial arts master spun around and shook his fist at the rather obese human.  "Don't take that tone with me!" he yelled.

            "What tone?"

            "You're acting like I'm an animal again!  Next thing you know, it's going to be 'What is it, boy?  Is there something out there?  Go fetch!'"  The irate cat resumed his vigil over the side of the tower.

            Yajirobe raised one eyebrow and continued work on his snack.  He hadn't been thinking about it before, but now that Korin brought it up…well, he _was_ a cat.  A pity the phrasing he'd picked to vocalize had been for a dog.  Yajirobe could have thought up some interesting quips about cats.  When he put his mind to it, he could be quite witty.  Ah, well, he'd missed his chance.  That drumstick had his name written all over it…

            Korin spared another worried glance at the surrounding landscape and turned back to the samurai.  "Yajirobe," he asked, "how many senzu beans are ripe?"

            "Five, I think," the human said between mouthfuls.  "I didn't get to the plants in the side room yet.  Haven't had time to rotate them from that window."

            The cat shuffled across the floor of the tower, stared out across the expanse of forest far below them, and then paced his way back.

            Yajirobe shook his head and sighed.  He never _did_ understand why the martial artist acted the way he did.  Too much sun?  Not enough oxygen at this altitude?  One too many kicks in the head?  He was not positive what combination of the three affected Korin, and he wasn't about to ask.  He worried him enough as it was.

            After a moment, the samurai felt a distinct change in the atmosphere of the tower, and he blinked.  _That's strange,_ he thought, sparing Korin a glance.  The cat was visibly shaken about something, and he had gripped the railing so hard it threatened to crack.  Jagged stress lines appeared in the material.  _That's never happened before, not while I've been up here._

            Then Korin frantically scrambled away from the railing, moaning.  He had identified the cause of that dark feeling, and he had to consciously restrain himself, lest he begin trembling with fear.

            "What is it?" Yajirobe asked, shoveling a final handful of rice into his mouth.  He wiped his hands off and stood up, frowning when the master of the tower did not respond.  "Korin," he pressed again, "what's happening?"  He half-expected the cat to leap for his throat with all claws extended for treating him like a dumb animal, but apparently whatever caused this behavior was more important than manners and respect right now.  He made a mental note to watch his mouth.

            The cat whipped his staff around in front of him and growled low in his throat.  "A dreadful power is coming," he hissed.  His fur lifted off his body until it stood on end, but the martial arts master did not back down.

            The samurai's fingers twitched reflexively, knowing his sword was behind him, hanging off the back of his chair.  This was the kind of situation that gave one indigestion; he hated being so anxious.  "When?"

            "Now."

            Both Yajirobe and Korin spun around when they heard the strange but familiar voice coming from behind them.  The samurai would have been proud of himself had it dawned on him how fast he managed to unsheathe his sword, and he held it strongly before him.  Korin nearly lost his hold on his staff.  The sight of their adversary was truly terrifying, and its implications were no better.  Piccolo was seated on the railing at the edge of the tower, legs and arms crossed casually before him.  He was smirking, of course, but this one held more malice in it than any expression Vegeta could have ever made.

            "What do you want, Piccolo?" Korin growled.  "Where's Goku?"

            The jade-skinned man chuckled and rocked to his feet.  "You know the answers to those questions already.  And might I suggest that you stop using that name?"

            Korin and Yajirobe edged back when the Namek took a step forward, the human still brandishing his sword.  "You'd better stop your shenanigans now, boy, before someone else catches you at it!" Korin yelped, jabbing his staff into the floor.  "I don't appreciate this!"

            The humor on the Namek's face faded and was replaced with a deceptively neutral expression.  "Neither do I, cat.  Will you cooperate?"

            "Of course not!" the martial arts master hissed.  "What do you take me for?"

            The green warrior chuckled, a dark sound that sent new chills racing down the spines of the tower's inhabitants.  They scarcely had time to blink before Korin was caught up by the scruff of his neck in one of the man's large hands.  His staff clattered to the ground.  "Where are they, cat?" 'Piccolo' rumbled.

            Neither the samurai nor the cat needed to hear what 'they' were.  They already knew what he was talking about.  The senzu beans.

            Korin choked out his response.  "What…makes you think…I'd tell you?"

            "It's none of your business!" Yajirobe shouted simultaneously.  He leaped forward, raising his sword above his head.  "Whoever you are, drop him!"

            He regretted his words the instant Piccolo met his glare with his own cool gaze.  The samurai's muscles froze involuntarily, and he came to a sudden standstill before the Namek.  Something…was holding him?  He growled and strained against the invisible bonds that held him away from Piccolo.  "What the – "

            "I did not need to deal with you, human," the green man said, "but since you seem so eager to deal with _me…_"  He carelessly swung the arm holding Korin around and extended his hand.  The master of the tower was hurled through the wall and into a side room, where something large must have been toppled over, judging by the crash that resounded through the tower.

            Yajirobe spared a glance in the direction Korin had disappeared, before he himself was lifted bodily off the ground by a large fist wrapped around the front of his robe.  He gulped.  _Why me?_ he thought.

            "…I should turn you into a greasy smear on the wall," the warrior finished saying.  "You can do this the hard way, or you can make it easier on yourself.  I'll make your death swift if you save me the trouble of tearing this place apart."

            Yajirobe locked eyes with the demon and shuddered.  Those eyes…he had not seen anything like that since Piccolo Daimao had lost his bid for power.

            "Where are you hiding the senzu beans?"

            In what would likely be his final act of defiance (and stupidity), Yajirobe tried to spit on him.

            Piccolo snarled and dodged the missile, and in one fluid motion the human found himself airborne, flying out over the edge of the tower.  He hung in the air for a split-second, and then he began the long plummet down the side of the construct.  His panicking mind registered a parting jab from the Namek, spoken in the recesses of his own thoughts.  _You have a few minutes left to live, human.  I suggest you spend them considering why you thought it wise to defy Ma Junior.  Take your stupidity to the Afterlife._

            The demon's eerie laughter followed him down.

_The Lookout_

            Kami felt Piccolo claw his way free of the demon's grasp, only to be buried beneath its weight once more.  He shook his head sadly and leaned more of his weight on his slightly charred staff.  He heard the boy tell Son Goku to find either himself or Uranai Baba, or kill him.  "Brave child," he whispered, "you seek your death to prevent chaos from descending.  Were it only so simple."

            The battle raging so far away was in the foreground of his mind.  He had known the exact instant Vegeta's strength had failed him, the moment Piccolo lost control again, the demon's hasty retreat.  He felt the creature's approach and subsequent visit to the tower below him.  He sensed the panic in Yajirobe's _ki_, the dimming of Korin's.  He knew what had occurred.

            Kami clutched his staff closer to his body.  "How could this have gone so wrong?" he whispered, peering over the ruined edge of the Lookout.

            _You know how,_ he berated himself immediately.  _You could have sought out the boy when he was hatched and worked with him.  You could have shown him another path to walk.  But you shunned him.  Shunned him, and pushed him aside.  Labeled him as his sire and tried to kill him._  The old Namek sighed and stepped back again.  Waiting and pacing would not make the demon approach any faster.  He was already in Korin's tower, and it would only be a matter of time before he made his way to the Lookout.

            Not if, but when.

            _Could I have prevented this, all those years ago?_

            "It's not time for contemplation," he hissed, dragging himself out of his thoughts.  He could feel the demon's aura from where he stood, without having to search for the creature's _ki_ first.  Blast…it was becoming too powerful, too strong.  It had too much control.

            Kami began making his way through the rubble that had been a garden and approached the sanctuary.  If there was going to be anything he could do to aid in this creature's demise, this would be it.  He knew the demon would be coming for him next, after it had finished with Korin and Yajirobe.  The Guardian gulped at his own thoughts and felt shame for not being able to intervene.  But he needed to use his own advantages against the demon.  Sacred ground, indeed.  It could not touch the surface of the Lookout.  He could steal away to the inner rooms of the sanctuary and force the creature to come after him.

            "No!" Kami reprimanded himself sternly, coming to a halt before the broken stump of a pillar.  "I am responsible for this.  I will hold my ground."

            The Guardian of the Earth leaned back against the cool white column, grasped his staff firmly with both taloned hands, and waited.

* * * * *

Once again, I apologize for taking so long.  Over a month, was it?  *smacks forehead*  Thanks for sticking around.  On the upside of the situation, I might have just pushed my 'bad' grade up to average.  Note to the readers: Organic Chemistry is not for the faint of heart. ^^

~Dreamwraith


	33. Chapter Thirty Three

**Disclaimer:** I do not own DBZ.  I'm merely torturing the characters for a bit.

**Chapter Thirty-Three**

             When one is falling to their death, one has much time to contemplate the meaning of life, earth-shattering revelations, or simply how to either prevent this from happening or make it as painless as possible.  All these thoughts passed through Yajirobe's mind in under ten seconds, and after he'd exhausted all possibilities of learning how to fly, he settled on a favorite pastime of his…panic.

            _Oh, Kami, I'll never hide another senzu bean for myself ever again if you can get me out of this!_ he prayed urgently, squeezing his eyes shut and hoping for a miracle.

            He didn't scream – or even yelp – much past the initial squawk that escaped his throat.  He was a samurai, unconventional as he was, and he had been brought up to believe in meeting death with honor.  Even a gruesome, horrible death, such as the one he was about to face.  He still held his sword…he might be able to run himself through and spare himself that terrible impact, where every bone in his body would snap, when every internal organ would be crushed.  As the demon had said, he would be a greasy smear, even though it would be across the ground instead of a wall.

            Yajirobe carefully thumbed the blade of the sword.  No sense in detaching a few fingers before he died.  All it would really take would be one quick jab to the gut, and he'd never feel sudden impact.  But it wouldn't be an honorable death, and that was a problem.  He'd be doing it just to escape.  Suicide was only honorable if it was ritual, at least in his eyes.

            This was no ritual.

            Yajirobe frowned lightly and began to think, hard.  He was missing something.  He _knew_ he could get out of this.  There had to be _some_ way.  Even Goku managed to get himself out of some seriously sticky situations before, and in one piece, too!  So what if the man could fly?  _Ki_ wasn't always the answer to everything.

            He suddenly snapped his fingers and smiled grimly.  He had it.  Now all he needed was a bit of luck and a whole lot of balance.  He eyed the base of the tower and then the ground, and ran an estimate of how long he had before he'd become a permanent part of the landscape.  Two, three minutes.  No more.

            Slowly, so slowly, he extended his free arm and one leg away from his body and began directing his fall toward the pillar.  Too fast, and he would hit the tower at full speed and splatter himself all over it.  Too slow, and he would literally be kissing the ground.  He had watched enough movies to know what would happen to him.  No need for his imagination to kick in again.

            When he thought he could free-fall no closer to the tower, he pulled his arm in and grasped the sword hilt with both hands.  _This had better work,_ he grunted to himself.  Then, with all the strength and force he could muster, the samurai shot his body forward and drove the end of his sword into the side of the tower.

            The demon emerged from Korin's Tower growling softly and smelling of smoke.  "Son Goku knows, Ma Junior," he told the Namek.  "He'll be along in a few minutes for the senzu beans that will heal his wife and friends.  Shall I wait here for him, or shall I pay the Guardian another visit?"  He unclenched one of his fists and regarded the five senzu beans in his hand with a curious stare.  "I think we shall do something with the Guardian, now that I think about it.  Make certain he will not kill himself to get rid of you."

            _Demon,_ the Namek snarled back, _even if I cannot throw you out of my head, the Saiyans and humans will kill this body and send you back to the Underworld.  You can't defeat three Saiyans._

            _Ah, but I _can_ defeat a naive man who refuses to kill his friend, a broken prince, and a little boy who sees only his beloved mentor, not this monster you've become.  None of them are fit to be called warriors._

            _You underestimate them._

            _Do I?  They have yet to impress me._

            _Even if you can hold one side of the offensive, I will still be here._  Shadow could envision the vicious smirk that would have crossed his face, lips curled back and fangs bared.  _Every move you make I will fight, every bit of _ki_ you gather I will disperse. For every blow you land I'll find a way to make you feel it just as hard._

            "Doubtful_,_" the demon scoffed.  "But we'll see."  The stench of the charred and burning senzu vines was beginning to bother him, and he could still hear the plants crackling and popping under the intense heat.  He cast one last glance at the tower before setting his sights on the Lookout far above.  With any luck, he would be able to enjoy himself for a while before the pathetic Earthling warriors made their appearance.

            He flew up alongside the air currents and allowed himself a grin.

            Kami heaved a shuddering sigh when he felt the demon leave the tower.  So this was it, then.  Goku was on his way, but until then it was up to him to stall the creature.  He pushed himself away from the broken pillar and held his staff loosely at his side.  It was time for him to confront the past, both his and Piccolo's.

            "You appear to be waiting for someone, Kami," a voice hissed into his ear.  "Have I kept you long?"

            To his credit, the Guardian did not jump in sudden fright, but Shadow knew he had caught the old Namek unawares by the speed at which he whirled around.  "You look surprised to see me," he drawled, folding his arms across his chest.  "Don't tell me you were not expecting this from your own flesh and blood?"

            Truth be told, Kami had not expected the younger warrior to arrive as soon as he had, but it did not matter.  The creature hovered a full three feet above the tiled floor, the winds around the Lookout causing the battle-torn cloak to unfurl behind him like a macabre flag.  When his gaze fell upon the raw weal across the warrior's left cheek he winced.  Daimao's own mark.  Someone in another realm had access to this plane.  What allies had his other half made in the Underworld?  What magical powers had the Demon Lord acquired?

            "Did you think you could hide yourself from me?" the Guardian asked instead.  "I am joined to you, Piccolo.  I know you as well as I know myself."

            "Piccolo will not exist for much longer," came the guttural reply.  "You realize this."

            "I am aware of the fact," Kami said dryly.  "I also know that Piccolo is still in his body and mind, somewhere, and that he can hear me."

            The demon whipped his body around to the older Namek's side so fast he could not follow the movement with his eyes.  "He may have ears so he might hear.  But he has no voice, so you cannot hear him speak.  You cannot hear him scream."  He stared straight into the Guardian's eyes, meeting ebon orbs with ruby and holding his ground.

            "It makes no difference, demon."

            Shadow's eyes narrowed to mere slits.  "Then get to the point.  I have not the time to waste playing word games with you.  I have an agenda, so to speak."

            "I apologize."

            Had the situation not been so grim the Guardian would have laughed.  The expression on the demon's bruised face was just short of being comical; he did not seem to be able to make up his mind about whether he was confused, disgusted, or just fed up with him.  Kami pressed his slight advantage and continued.  With luck, he would leave this encounter with all his limbs intact.  "Surely you did not think I could not feel remorse for wrongs committed years ago?" he asked, mimicking Shadow's earlier drawl.  "I realize now what I should have long ago, and I know – "

            The old Namek did not complete his sentence.  He tasted the metallic tang of blood in his mouth, and he wondered why for the briefest of moments before the pain of the blow bore down on him.

            Shadow bit back a laugh as the Guardian hit the ground some distance away.  He hadn't thought he hit the old man's jaw _that_ hard, but apparently he was wrong.  Apparently he was not the warrior he thought he was.  Ah, but he mustn't kill him, as tantalizing as the idea was.  Not until Ma Junior could be separated from him, and that was still in the future.

            "Now, now, _Kami_," he reprimanded, baring his fangs in a wide smile and approaching the downed Namek, "you are failing in your capacity as Guardian, aren't you?  If you were half as capable as you should have been, you would have seen that coming.  Or, perhaps," he said, drifting closer, "you hoped the brat would somehow come to the rescue, miraculously tear himself from my grip and hurl me out into the open, where the tower itself would destroy me upon impact?"

            Kami grimaced as a foot connected with his gut and sent him sprawling.

            The demon leaned down until his face was inches from Kami's own.  "I think not."  The expression on his face would have caused a lesser man to quail.  He bent forward conspiratorially and brought his hand up between their faces.  "Do you recognize these?"

            The other Namek forced his eyes open – he couldn't remember closing them – and inhaled sharply.  _He found them,_ he thought dully, staring blankly at a handful of senzu beans.  Which meant the rest would be gone, and the vine either badly damaged or utterly destroyed.

            Shadow chuckled, a deep rumble resonating from his chest, and the senzu burst into flames.  He quickly flipped his hand over and let their ashes blow away.  "Can't be leaving these out for the Saiyans to find, can we?" he said in reply to the Guardian's groan.  "But this one will do just nicely."  He opened his other hand to reveal one last senzu.

            Kami's vision began to swim, and the last senses he registered before blacking out were the sight of his own flesh and blood devouring the last of the precious senzu, and the sound of Goku's startled cry.  The latter confused him, since he had not felt the man's arrival, but he had not the time to ponder the thought further.  The comforting darkness of unconscious swiftly enveloped him.

            Goku had nearly caught up to the demon by the time he reached the base of Korin's tower.  There wasn't much time left for Piccolo, he knew.  The atmosphere of the tower was rotten with demon-stink, and not in the literal sense.  The Saiyan felt dirty just flying through the same air as the foul creature, as if a polluted cloud had descended upon his mind.  He gritted his teeth.  That _thing_ was at the Lookout now!

            He sped up, increasing his aura as much as possible without ascending.  It was bad enough that the demon could sense him coming.  He didn't want him knowing the extent of his strength as well, but he had to get himself up there fast.  Too bad he couldn't do Kami's teleportation trick.  That would've been a big help.

            A hoarse cry shocked him from his thoughts.

            The startled Saiyan stopped in his tracks and actually dropped a few feet before regaining his senses.  _Where on Earth did that – oh!_

            Two pairs of eyes met.

            "Yajirobe?"  Goku flew in closer, momentarily distracted and curious as to why the man was dangling from his sword.  "How did you get down here?" he asked, watching the samurai.

            "You imbecile!" the fat man shouted, clinging to the length of metal.  "Piccolo tossed me over the edge!  I'm lucky I had my sword with me, or I'd be a smear on the ground by now!"

            Goku looked above the samurai and saw a jagged tear in the tower itself, extending past his line of vision and up into the clouds.  Yajirobe must have stuck his sword in the column and tried to catch himself.  Well, it worked, all right, but the tower would definitely need some fixing once they were able to detach the man from his sword and his sword from the tower.

            "I almost went deaf!" he raged.  "Do you have any idea how loud steel on tile is?"

            Wow, had he been lucky, Goku thought.

            "Get me _down_ from here!"

            The warrior cast a glance at the other man and decided he could hang on for a bit longer.  "I'll be back for you later, Yajirobe," he told the samurai.  "Be careful, all right?"  If Goku heard the fading insults and curses coming from the human, he gave no indication of it.  His _ki_ blazed through the dark sky, leaving a burning trail behind him.

            He did not register passing Korin's tower, or the stench of the burning vines, nor landing on the tiled floor of the Lookout.  But when he saw the demon crouched in the air over the fallen Guardian he gave a sharp cry.

            Shadow swung his head around and gave the man a baleful glare.  "You show up at the most inappropriate times, Son Goku."

            "What did you do to him?" the Saiyan growled.

            The demon stretched himself out languidly as he drifted away from Kami.  "I did nothing," he said mildly.  "He decided it would be for the best if he made his amends with the brat."

            Goku frowned and gave the other warrior a once-over.  From his own experience, stretching with cracked ribs hurt.  Very much so, actually.  And the last time he checked, Piccolo had not been _that_ immune to pain.  So either he was hiding his weakness from him – doubtful – or he had paid Korin and Yajirobe a visit, which he already knew was true.

            _Not good,_ he thought.  "What did you do to Korin and Yajirobe?"  _Keep him talking, Goku.  Distract him.  Use Piccolo's own tactics against him._

            Shadow laughed and tried not to let on that he noticed the man slowly approaching him.  "Nothing they did not deserve.  Surely when an ally requests healing, it should be given?"

            "You're no ally of ours."

            "Indeed not.  You pathetic Earthlings serve no purpose but to be annihilated."

            Goku balled his hands into fists and jutted his chin out.  _This is it,_ he told himself.  He drew himself up to his full height and allowed his gathered _ki_ to swirl out around him in ever-increasing arcs.  "You've caused enough trouble, whoever you are," he growled.  "Only one of us is leaving this place alive."

            The demon cocked his head to the side and regarded him curiously.  "Even at the expense of Piccolo's life?"

            The Saiyan's voice dropped from a snarl to a sigh.  "I will not allow any friend of mine to live as a prisoner in his own mind.  Piccolo is one of the best men I've ever known, and he deserves a better future than this.  I'd rather he die free than trapped by the likes of you."  His words were emphasized by an increase in volume, and if Shadow hadn't known any better he would have said the other warrior was close to tears.  But a true Saiyan warrior does not weep for what is lost, and with the exception of his final battle with Frieza, Goku was as close to being a true Saiyan as he would ever be with his upbringing.

            "Touching, Son, touching," the Underworld creature replied, allowing his own aura to spiral around him and whip his cape about.  "But you are injured, and there are no more senzu beans to save you.  I took the last.  Knowing this, you will not submit to a…graceful…defeat?"

            Goku managed to keep his shock reined in and considered favoring the other warrior with a rather vulgar hand gesture.  _He destroyed them!  They're…gone!  Chi-Chi…Krillin…Gohan…even Vegeta…damn it!  There's no way to heal them now!_  The more he thought about it, the angrier he grew.  His aura reflected the man's inner turmoil, and it flickered between white and gold.

            _Good,_ the demon thought.  _Grow angry.  Lose your temper.  Lose your mind.  Make this battle your last.  Make it one the heavens will whisper with sorrow and the hells chant with glee.  Let it be known that Son Goku, so-called Champion of Earth, has fallen to one he called friend._

            "Never…" Goku hissed.  "I will not…submit…to the likes…of YOU!"

            The skies above and around them exploded with light, and the demon was faced with an enraged Super Saiyan once more.  Above the dull roar of the Saiyan's tremendous _ki_, Shadow let out his own thunderous growl and felt his own _ki_ rise and collide with that of the other man.  His following words carried across the Lookout, through the violent winds and the storm that was just beginning to arise overhead, and Goku matched his scowl to the green warrior's crooked smirk.

            "Then let this be known as the day hope died."

            All other words were lost in the ensuing boom.

            "Vegeta…what is _that_?" Gohan gasped.

            The older Saiyan scowled at the _ki_ storm, centered around the Lookout.  "Apparently, they've started without us," he muttered, loudly enough that the boy beside him could make out his words.  "What a light show."  Inwardly he was seething.  _What power!  How could Kakarot and the Namek have so much _ki_ between them?  Hahhh…how could I have ever thought to face off against either one?  This is madness!_  His mind's voice changed to reflect his typical countenance.  _But so was fighting Frieza.  Better to go down fighting than in bed, I suppose.  But if I'm going to die today, I'm taking one of them with me!_

            Gohan wisely kept his mouth shut when he saw Vegeta's near-maniacal expression.  So it was a big deal for him too, then.  He returned his attention to the flickering _ki_ light and dull boom of tremendous blows being exchanged.  "Hang on, Piccolo, dad," he whispered.  "We're almost there."

            Their own large _ki_ trails were lost in the temporary brightening of the sky.

* * * * *

No excuse for tardiness this time.  But I can defend myself against all potential lynchers. *grins and brandishes the Whack-Bonk stick*

DS, thank you for sympathizing.  What makes it so bad is that I'm actually a Chem major.  What on Earth was I thinking?  I often wonder.

As a heads up, there are only two or three chapters left to this story.  Please bear with my temporary insanity for that long. ^^  Thank you for reading.  It wouldn't have been possible without you.

~Dreamwraith


	34. Chapter Thirty Four

Now is it just me, or has there been a sudden influx of demon-Piccolo stories?  It's a pretty neat phenomenon either way.

If you catch my ode to a certain mid-Eighties fantasy movie, let me know.  And kudos to you if you know which movie, too. 

**Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ, nor will I ever.  Unless you believe in the whole "say it three times and make it your own" thing.**

**Chapter Thirty-Four**

            Goku grinned like a madman and used the demon's own momentum to swing him down into the broken tile floor.  Just as quickly Shadow leaped clear of the ground, before it could begin to burn him through.  He aimed a fist for the bridge of the other man's nose and sent the other into his gut when it was blocked.

            Goku was in over his head, but he was still smiling.

            It must have been his ascended state.  Battle never ceased to thrill the Saiyan, and his blood was singing as it was.  But even he knew he was outmatched, over-classed, and overwhelmed.  Piccolo had always been a tactician, making up for what he lacked in brute force with his mind and his speed.  And now that the demon had brought with him so much strength, so much power, Goku could not hope to match him for long.  It was a wonder he hadn't suffered a serious injury.

            "Can't you do anything better than that?" he spat, twisting the corners of his mouth into a sneer worthy of Vegeta himself.  He could feel his son and the Saiyan prince approaching the Lookout now…they would be here within the next two or three minutes, and then the three of them could gang up on their possessed ally.  _Friend.  Goku was willing to admit that Piccolo was no enemy of his, but a rival for power and someone who probably understood him better than he did himself.  The Namek had admitted to their awkward friendship once before…but a whole lot of help that did the both of them now that they were locked in mortal combat.  He would need the help of the other two Saiyans to bring down the demon inside the Namek._

            Shadow chuckled and flipped back.  "Do you care to see it?"

            "That power's not yours.  It's Piccolo's, and you cheated.  You're yellow, that's what."  Goku brought himself down to the surface of the Lookout and let his aura expand once more.

            "Black as midnight, black as pitch, Son Goku," the demon replied, his own _ki clashing loudly against that of the Saiyan.  He and the other warrior leaped forward at the same time, their fists creating a dull roar that rivaled the crescendo above them._

            They fought for what seemed to be an eternity, though it was no longer than a minute.  The green man had the upper hand, of course.  He was aiming to kill; Goku was trying his hardest to keep him alive.  Shadow had no qualms against taking advantage of the Saiyan's weak state of mind.  Namely, his conscience.  _The Saiyan has morals, he mused, __but it should not surprise me.  Of all that I have learned from both Daimao and Ma Junior, it is this that will be his downfall.  He says he will kill the brat, but can he really?  He snorted at the thought.  __Not likely._

            Shadow allowed the other man's fist to graze his shoulder and spun with it, driving his knee into the Saiyan's gut when he came around.  The rhythm of the blows was soothing to him.  Goku was doing everything he possibly could just to graze his skin, even as a Super Saiyan, and he could not.  The demon was simply too nimble, too swift for him, and he took obvious delight in watching struggle to get a punch or _ki blast in.  "How does it feel, not being able to land a single blow, or having to watch every __ki blast you hurl deflected back to you?" he hissed.  "I find it…fascinating.  Thrilling.  How long it has been since I last felt this way."  A crooked sneer crossed his face._

            Goku rolled with the demon's next punch and used his momentum to put some distance between them.  If he would only give him enough time to charge a _ki ball or a __Kamehameha…but he wouldn't.  He had already tried once, and the instant the creature recognized the posture he had leaped forward and cuffed the side of his head hard enough to knock him several feet away.  He needed a distraction._

            Gohan's _ki flared once off the edge of the Lookout, and the older Saiyan couldn't help but grin.  So close, so close, and then the demon would be gone.  He chuckled.  Perhaps it would even have a physical form in this realm, and when Piccolo got his body back he would be able to tear the demon apart.  After all, he __was the Demon King.  The other demon would have to obey him, right?  An image of a small black creature roasting itself on the floor of the Lookout at Piccolo's orders filled his mind.  He could practically smell the smoke…_

            "What are you laughing at?" the demon demanded, dropping to the other man's eye level.

            "That."  Goku flicked his eyes behind the hovering warrior, and Shadow scowled.

            "I thought we were beyond games," he growled.

            "We _are!" bellowed a third voice.  The demon whirled around in time to catch a fist in the side of his face.  He felt his cheekbone shatter under the blow and hissed as he fell, his body bouncing off the tiles with his momentum._

            Vegeta floated down to the floor, followed closely by Gohan, and both Saiyans were scowling.  "Kakarot," he snapped, "why haven't you gotten the job done yet?"

            Gohan ran forward, coming as close to his father as he could without being repulsed by the man's _ki.  "Dad, do you have the senzu beans?" he asked, half-extending one hand in expectation._

            Goku could not bring himself to tell his son that Piccolo had destroyed the only senzu there were and had then proceeded to eat the last one.  "There are none," he said finally, ignoring the boy's outstretched hand.  "We have to go without'em this time."

            Gohan's eyes grew incredibly wide.  "What?  How…where could they have gone, dad?" he squeaked, his eyes darting from Vegeta to Goku to Piccolo and back.  "What happened?"

            "He destroyed them."

            "_What?" came Vegeta's answering snarl.  The Saiyan prince gave the other man an incredulous glare and began rapidly clenching and unclenching his fists.  "How could you allow him to do it, Kakarot?  Huh?  Were you just not quick enough?  You, the Super Saiyan?"  The man's eye began to twitch, from frustration or anger Goku could not tell._

            Goku had no chance to reply.  Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of the green man blurring, and he threw himself to the ground.  The demon's fist went sailing harmlessly overhead, but he rebounded quickly and went for Vegeta instead.  The Saiyan was caught unawares and was driven off the Lookout, the demon mercilessly pummeling the front of his body.

            Gohan dove into the fray and slammed his tiny fist into his mentor's side, catching him off-balance and pushing him away from Vegeta.

            "I do not need your help, brat!" the prince roared, smacking the child to the side and charging after the other warrior.

            Goku flew after him, gathering _ki in the palms of his hands._

            "Like shooting fish in a barrel."  Shadow raised his hands above his head and grasped the back of one wrist.  "_Masenko!"_

            The attack hit Vegeta head-on, and the Saiyan prince fell to the floor.

            "Vegeta!" Goku called anxiously.

            "Pitiful man," the creature jeered.  "Only one hit to take down the Saiyan prince.  Pathetic."  He held both hands in front of his body and readied another attack.

            The Super Saiyan quickly fell back into his famous signature stance.  "_Ka…me…ha…me…"_

            Shadow heard the man and acted too late.

            "_HA!"_

            The blue-white _ki hit the demon with all the force of a demolition truck and tore through his budding __ki ball.  Shadow was flung heavily to the ground but rebounded off the floor before his hands could do more than sting._

            Goku snorted and flew in to press his attack.  The demon's gathered _ki was gone, right?  And there was no way he would find enough time to charge another attack, right?_

            Wrong.

            As the Super Saiyan came within close range, Shadow shot the man a wicked smile and thrust one hand forward.  And with that one hand he channeled out enough raw energy to power Capsule Corp. for well over a year.  Nail had used it on Frieza.  Later, Piccolo surprised Kadrin with it.  And now the legendary warrior received the same welcome.

            Goku was too close to Shadow to shield himself from the _ki blast, and the front of his body took the brunt of the attack.  His arm caught on the remains of a column when he struck the ground and bounced back up, and pain flared down his side and across his chest when his shoulder snapped.  The demon gave him no time to recover, darting through the remnants of his own attack to bring both fists down on the back of the man's head.  Goku went down like a ton of bricks and stayed down.  His aura vanished, and his hair and eyes darkened once more._

            "Dad!" Gohan cried.

            A green fist reached down and seized the back of the bright orange gi, hauling the fallen warrior up to eye level.  Goku's gaze met that of his enemy, and he shuddered.  "This will be the last time we lock eyes, Son Goku," Shadow hissed softly, "and that is a promise.  Any last words?"

            Goku scowled.  "Yeah.  Go to Hell."

            He stared at the demon's free hand, watching the _ki it slowly gathered build up in its palm and trickle out from between outstretched fingers.  The red and black energy crackled ominously before him._

            Then, curiously enough, the demon roared in pain, and he whipped his head around so quickly it made Goku dizzy.  "How dare you?" he bellowed, hurling the _ki blast at the human warriors instead of the Saiyan and causing them to scatter._

            Goku couldn't help but smile.  "The cavalry has arrived," he mumbled, flashing Yamcha a thumbs-up.

            "Good aim, Yamcha," Tien complimented, stretching his arms out to either side of him and floating back into place.

            The scarred man smirked.  He'd had to bend himself over backwards to avoid that one.  It would have burned his torso off on contact.  Just being in close proximity with the demon's _ki made his orange gi turn a dusty brown color.  "Couldn't figure out why I still had that dumb bottle anyway.  I guess it served its purpose."_

            The demon growled, and now Goku could see the faint imprint of a water bottle along the side of his face, cutting across the raw weal of Daimao's mark.  _Figures, he thought.  __The ball player and his drink.__  Can't go anywhere without it.  At least this time it came in handy!_

            Shadow badly wanted to wipe that goofy grin from the Saiyan's face, but a sudden scream from off to the side seized his attention.  "Now what?" he snarled, hissing in pain as the sound rose in both volume and pitch.  He swung his gaze around and caught sight of…

            …Gohan.

_            What? Goku thought incredulously.___

            The boy was positioned in a crouch, clutching at his temples as if he was trying to wake from a terrible nightmare.  His mouth was open in the most desperate cry he'd ever made, and he was trembling…with rage or fear, it was not clear.  But the most shocking detail was not his actions or his expressions, but his appearance.  Gohan's hair flickered between gold and black, his eyes from teal to dark, and his _ki sparked violently about his body.  A wave of raw __ki surged around him in a blazing pyre of light._

            The demon, perhaps accessing some memory of Piccolo's, dropped the Saiyan and frowned deeply.  The boy had a hidden power…and by all appearances, he had just found it.  "What are you doing, boy?" he growled softly, falling into a lunge.  "You should not be this strong."  Behind them the humans gasped.  Gohan, too?

            "You…hurt…my dad!"  The demi-Saiyan rolled the words off his tongue like venom, his voice barely rising above the din.  "You hurt him…and you hurt Piccolo!  You won't get away with this!  I won't let you!"

            _You can't face another one, Piccolo whispered smugly.  __You're dead._

            _Shut up! the demon snarled back.  "You would not hurt your mentor, your friend, would you, boy?"_

            He was rewarded with a cold glare.  "You're not Piccolo.  You're not my friend."

            Goku pushed himself back along the floor and scooted out of Gohan's way, his one good arm trembling as he struggled to keep himself upright.

            Shadow did not feel the fist that buried itself in his ribcage, cracking newly-healed and bruised ribs alike, until the bones grated against each other.  He gagged on blood as it forced its way up his throat and spattered along both the boy's face and his own.  _What…how… he thought fearfully.  __His father, the stronger of the two…_

            _Did you think I wouldn't make good on my promises, demon? Piccolo hissed.  __I don't go back on my word.  You'll feel all of it, even if it takes me with you._

            _Damn you, Ma Junior, Shadow thought angrily, barely evading Gohan's other fist.  The boy's hair had gone dark again.  He wasn't quite strong enough to ascend, but he was pretty damn close.  Too close for the demon's comfort.  One more insult, one more misplaced strike would push him over the edge, and it would finish the demon.  He hadn't the energy to engage in a full-out brawl with another, fully-energized Super Saiyan._

            Gohan drove his knee into Shadow's chin, and the demon felt it shatter beneath its force.  This time he did cry out.

            _I did not want to do this so soon, he moaned silently, __but I have no choice.  He reached out his mental hands for the boy, intent on damaging the brat beyond recognition if he had to – including reducing him to the brain power of a vegetable.  It would keep him alive, and the boy would no longer be a threat.  Gohan was so close, and his mind had no mental blocks to keep him from scorching the insides.  He could wipe his memories or fire his nerve endings so rapidly his senses would overload.  So close…_

            Shadow's vision swirled suddenly, and he found himself frozen in place.

            "What?" he had time to gasp before his stolen body collapsed weakly to the ground.  His answer came in the form of a low chuckle – the triclops and that emperor, he figured, and he knew it was over.  He had reached too far without caution.  He was caught at his own game.

            Chiaotzu nodded stiffly to Tien.  The demon was caught between two bodies, and he had sealed off both ends of the tunnel.  "Go…Tien…" he panted.  "He's fighting…"

            "Gotcha.  This is for all the people who have suffered because of you and what you've done.  I hope you cease to exist when we're done with you."  Tien's expression was bitter as he caught his own hold on the demon and began to pull.  Between Chiaotzu and himself, the creature – as weakened as it was – would never break free.

            Shadow shrieked, and the inhuman sound was forced from the Namek's throat, a raw scream that ripped at the voice and throat of the body's owner.  He tried latching his mental claws onto anything, any surface, any handhold he could gain in either the Namek's or the demi-Saiyan's mind.  He found none.

            _Ssseer! he pleaded, his voice reverting as he slowly began shifting into his own form.  __Help me!  He screamed again when Gohan appeared above him and landed in a crouch on top of him, breaking two more ribs and forcing the demon down against the floor.  The tiles that would sear the life out of any evil to make contact with them._

            The reply was not comforting.

            _You have failed us, Shadow, his superior replied calmly.  __Thus you face the consequences of your shortcomings.  Erasure.  You will be no more.  Daimao's rumbling voice growled at him in the background._

            _NO!_

            Cloth was melted away between demon skin and sacred ground, and flesh began to scorch and smoke.  Shadow struggled to free himself from Son Gohan's grasp and failed.  He shrieked again when the blinding pain began to move along his joints, through his muscles and organs, deep in the marrow of his bones.

            It turned a deaf ear to his mental cries, and Shadow felt despair for the first time in his life.

            _It cannot end thisss way! he moaned, feeling the ties that bound him to Piccolo snap.  __Not like thisss!_

            _You'd better believe it, Tien snapped in his mind.  __You and yours have caused the Earth enough trouble.  The Lookout will turn you to ash._

            And so it did.  Shadow wailed and thrashed wildly now, each beat of his heart sending fire through his veins and searing his body.  He could _feel.  Each individual cell, every shred of skin on his back, he felt the agony of the sacred fire burning into him through them.  Even the agony he suffered in Hell paled in comparison to this.  But with each breath he drew, with each cry he released, Piccolo screamed with him._

            This thought comforted him, until with a mighty heave, the Namek and Tien forced Shadow from Piccolo's mind.

            Blessed numbness!

            Shadow, a dark, formless blot against the white tiles of the Lookout, darted off toward the darkened recesses of the sanctuary.  If he was quick enough, he would be able to reach the shadows and work his way back into Hell.  Without a physical form he could not feel the Lookout's power…he might still live!  He might…

            "_Taiyoken__!"_

            How could he have forgotten?  He hissed and clutched at his face in agony.

            "You're looking for a dark corner, aren't you?"

            The triclops.  Damn him!

            Tien's well-aimed kick passed right through the demon, and he scowled.  "I should've known.  You were one of the creatures present when Piccolo was pulled in weeks ago, weren't you?  You're nothing more than a shadow here.  No physical substance on this plane."

            Shadow writhed on the ground and moaned.

            The triclops allowed himself a smirk.  "But you're still blinded by _ki.  You can be killed here, can't you?"_

            At the sound of his voice the demon raised his sightless face to the man and snarled.  "He'll come back for you all!  This will not end with me…no, this is just the beginning!  Mark me, human, you have not tasted the last of the Demon Lord's power!"

            "Then let's see if this works."  Tien formed a triangle with his hands and raised it to his chin.  "_Kikoho!"_

            Shadow was disintegrated before he could protest.

            In his own realm, Daimao roared in anger when the smaller demon's body spontaneously ignited, his own flesh fueling the flames that licked his body.  His plan had literally backfired, and there would be hell to pay.

-----

Unless something happens, there's only one more chapter to go, and the epilogue.

Here's my question for you…would you like to see a sequel to this, or was it long enough?  It's basically up to you, the readers, so either leave your response in your review or e-mail it to me.  I'd appreciate your opinion either way.

And me being the dip that I am, I should get back to studying for my Organic Chemistry Final tomorrow.  Ciao.

-Dreamwraith


	35. Chapter Thirty Five

The movie I quoted from last chapter was _Legend_; the line "black as midnight, black as pitch, [blacker than the foulest witch]" was said by one of the goblins. And if you haven't seen that movie, I suggest that you do.

And to the conversationalist, I did make use of your suggestion. Thank you.

**Disclaimer:** There are thirty-four other disclaimers in this story. Read one of them.

**Chapter Thirty-Five**

Goku could see no sign of the shadowed creature, and his bloodied face broke into a grin.

"Is it done?" Chiaotzu's tired, tremulous voice broke the heavy silence. It had taken more out of him to hold the creature from the other realm than any save Tien would ever know. It had been close.

"Yes," came Tien's reply. The triclops lowered his hands and sighed. "It seems almost too easy, doesn't it?"

"But it's gone."

"Right. And that worries me."

Chiaotzu peered at the downed Namek with the interest one would give a particularly gruesome accident. "I don't sense the creature's mind any more. There's no imprint there. Whatever happened to it, whatever you did, it won't be coming back." The pale man dropped to the ground and heaved a sigh.

Tien gratefully followed suit and dropped his chin into his waiting hands. "Good. I don't think we can handle anything else at the moment. What a nightmare."

From the edge of the Lookout Krillin moaned, and Kami peeked his head out from behind a pile of debris. _He must have gotten out of the way during the battle,_ Goku thought. He presumed Chi-Chi had been set down near Krillin, and he watched Yamcha land near the origin of the sound. Yes, his wife must be there as well. Or else the human would not be so composed.

He hoisted himself up to his full height, and his breath hitched at the rough treatment. He chuckled in spite of himself; he didn't think there was a bone in his body the demon hadn't bruised or broken during their fight. But what a fight it had been! Heck, it was worthy of a few ballads! If the rest of the world had been watching with baited breath, the battle would have gone down in Earthling history. As it was, Kami would be scribing it all somewhere after they had recovered, as a reference for future Guardians.

Yamcha grinned and shot the Saiyan a thumbs-up when he caught his gaze.

Goku returned the gesture with his good hand and began walking quickly toward the small crater that held Piccolo. Gohan was crouched at its rim, an arm's length from the Namek – the distance a safeguard in case not all was right. The Namek's blood was still spattered across his face. Piccolo remained motionless, but whether or not it was reassuring the Saiyan was not certain. The oppressive atmosphere that had enshrouded the Lookout was gone, and with it the growling of the unnatural storm. When Goku glanced up at the distant clouds, he could see rain distorting the sky.

The reflection of the weakening lightning against the drops of water did little to rein in his imagination. His eyes danced across the Lookout, at the ruins of the once pristine sanctuary. Goku frowned, the relaxed stance he held belying his uneasiness. In his mind's eye, shadows darted along the walls where no people had cast them. Glowing eyes and dripping fangs hid in corners. And in the rubble long, spindly arms awaited his approach, to grab his ankles and pull him into a dark, yawning maw. Creatures yearning for blood crouched just out of his reach, around corners and under tables and in nooks and crannies too small for any human…

The wailing of the wind was interrupted by Gohan's voice, and Goku shook off the dreadful products of his imagination. "Piccolo?" the boy whispered, creeping closer to his mentor and friend. "Wake up, will you? We've gone through too much together just to lose each other now. Please, Piccolo? Say something! Anything!"

When the Namek did not respond, Gohan gave an almighty shriek and lunged forward, burying his face in the other warrior's tattered shirt.

Kami's head cleared the debris by another few feet as he clambered hastily to his feet.

Vegeta stirred in his own small crater, and the humans all turned their attention to the demi-Saiyan and his mentor.

"He's not dead!" Goku exclaimed softly.

"I know, dad," the boy sobbed. "But I can't feel him in _here._" He raised one shaking hand and briefly touched his first two fingers to his temple.

Goku watched his only son screw his face into a grimace and hated himself for not being able to aid him now.

_Piccolo?_ Gohan tested his link with the Namek again, but there was still no response. It wasn't quite severed – he would be able to tell if it was – but he couldn't make the connection. Perhaps it was blocked, he thought, like the drain in the sink that one time dad tried doing dishes. And if it was, could he break through whatever seal was holding their bond closed? _Piccolo!_

The boy squeezed his eyes shut and tried forcing himself into the half-conscious state Piccolo had taught him was vital for proper meditation. _I have to find him! _he thought fiercely. He began tuning out all external distractions, sound by sound, ignoring his father's mumbled query and the distant growling of thunder. His mind was harder to calm, each whisper a scream in the silence and each hushed thought a cacophony. He slowly drove each voice from his mind, dimly feeling sweat dripping from his body with the effort of maintaining complete tranquility. Which, considering the circumstances, was an extraordinary feat. His concern over Piccolo roared through his head as loudly as the blood through his ears.

In the instant all grew still, Gohan plunged through the blocked pathway and shattered the demon's obstruction.

He found himself in the charred and smoldering ruins of a small clearing, surrounded by blackened and fallen trees, and he shuddered. "Where am I?" he thought out loud, and his voice echoed eerily in the dimly lit field. He could almost smell sulfur in the air, which was ridiculous only because he was inside his mentor's mind. Everything in here was his, and Piccolo's, own imagination.

Or was it?

Shredded bits of cloth floated through the air, some tinged purple, others a faded crimson. In the filtered light everything seemed to be a washed-out shade of red, and Gohan blamed it on the confusion and chaos that had likely torn through here a moment ago. He did not want to think of what it could mean otherwise…his mentor's mind shattered or subverted, or worse, erased completely. Now that he took the time to think about it, there was the chance he would get himself lost in this world, too. And he knew of the horrors the Namek kept inside. If something happened, Piccolo might not be able to come to his rescue.

"Piccolo?" Gohan called softly, taking care to glance around him for any sign of motion. When nothing showed itself, he tried again.

The reply came as a whisper, and Gohan had to strain his ears to hear it.

"What?" he shouted, wincing at the volume at which his voice carried.

"I told you to get out of here before, kid. Why didn't you listen to me?"

Piccolo materialized beside him, and Gohan jumped in surprise. "I…ah…well, I…that's a good question, Piccolo…" The boy scrambled for words, but though it usually annoyed the Namek, Piccolo said nothing about it.

The two warriors, master and pupil, were silent for a moment. "Then why are you still here?" the Namek pressed. "This is no place for a boy, even one of your strength."

Gohan regarded the other man calmly and fought down his rising anxiety. "You were a boy once, Piccolo."

"I never said I was not. That does not change things. It is not safe here for you."

"But you're here, Piccolo. You'll protect me. You always do."

"I won't always be around to save you, kid." The Namek favored the boy with his own thoughtful expression.

"Then why are you hanging around here?" When Piccolo frowned, he knew he had caught him. _I thought so._ "I can take care of myself right now, Piccolo," Gohan continued, giving the green man a wry smile. "You have a life to get back to."

The boy expected anything but the answer he received.

Piccolo abruptly whirled around and stalked away, and Gohan had to run to keep up with him. "To what point, Gohan?" the Namek hissed, not bothering to see if his former student was keeping up with him. "You know as well as I what that creature came for, and what it intended to do. Daimao will stop at nothing to achieve his goal. Do you honestly believe there will be nothing else sent to finish the job? There is no reason to jeopardize the few things on this pathetic planet that I still value. If I am no longer present, there will be no other attacks."

Gohan's eyes widened, and his shock was great enough that, when the taller man stopped as suddenly as he had taken off, he tripped over his own feet to avoid slamming into him. "You don't mean that!" he gasped. "You can't possibly mean to stay here, in your own mind!"

Piccolo turned slowly and locked his angry gaze on the boy. "Don't question me, brat. You don't know the workings of a demon's mind. If there is no tool, there is no harvest. The world will remain as it is. Better, perhaps, with one less demon acting upon it."

For an instant, Gohan thought he hadn't heard right. _His_ mentor, giving up? He wouldn't allow it! "Piccolo, _stop_ it!" he roared, shouting louder than he ever had before. He ignored the sudden astonishment on his mentor's face and the scowl on his own. "You're not the demon everyone thinks you are! You're not some horrid, destructive monster, or a bloodthirsty beast, or anything like that at all! You're my friend, and a good man, and someone who doesn't let anyone stop him!"

"I'm a _demon,_ brat!" Piccolo snarled.

"You're a _Namek!_ A Namek _and_ a demon! Like I'm Saiyan _and_ human! Piccolo, it's not one part that defines the whole! You don't have to give in to the part that wants to destroy itself…you can make yourself into whatever you want to be! And I don't think you want to be a bad guy any more. You're one of us, Piccolo, one of the good guys, and if something else happens we'll be there for you!" With that, Gohan collapsed and caught himself on his knees, and promptly burst into tears. "You're my friend, Piccolo," he whispered brokenly, "and I don't want you to leave."

Suddenly he was back in his own body, staring at the limp form of his mentor through glistening eyes, and he began sobbing again. All the rage he felt before was gone. Piccolo had pushed him away! He was going through with his plan after all, and he was leaving him alone, all alone!

He wasn't aware of Goku's comforting presence until he felt his father's hand on his shoulder. "Gohan," the soothing voice spoke, "are you all right?"

Goku was able to pull a few phrases from Gohan's semi-hysterical babble, and it translated into Piccolo not coming back. So the Saiyan knelt down beside Piccolo, heedless of the purple blood soaking into the knees of his pants, and gently placed two fingers against the side of his neck. He couldn't be dead, could he? After all he had survived – Frieza, the hybrid brothers, his own father and his chosen agents – he wasn't going to make it?

"Go away, Son," Piccolo spat, his voice raw and harsh from Shadow's inhuman shriek. He felt his cracked jaw protest the action. "I'm not dead yet."

Goku, the first Super Saiyan in over a thousand years and legendary in his own right, nearly jumped out of his skin. Yamcha and Tien leaped to their feet, half-expecting an exciting new development in the battle they had thought finished, but found themselves shaking their heads and settling back down when Goku broke out into laughter and fell back on his rear. "I should have known better than to think you'd die that easily, Piccolo," he said, his typical grin plastered across his face.

"Piccolo?" Gohan half-asked, half-breathed. "Are you – "

"You're too emotional for your own good, kid," the Namek said, shooting the boy a scowl he did not feel. Then his voice softened. "Thank you. But your logic…is a bit off. Though you're close enough…that the details don't matter." Piccolo ended his sentence with a hacking cough, and Gohan dropped his head to the Namek's shoulder for comfort.

"Piccolo, you're as bad as Vegeta," Goku said sternly. "Shut up already and save your strength."

Slowly, the Namek lifted one shaking hand and graced the Saiyan with a rather obscene hand gesture.

Goku chuckled. "You're in no condition to be doing that – "

"Which is precisely what I am going to remedy!" an enraged voice interrupted. "First he insults me, and then our race! Kakarot, this pathetic excuse for a warrior is mine!"

Goku jerked his head up, ignoring the pain in his stiff muscles from the sudden motion, and caught sight of Vegeta staggering towards them. "Vegeta, what are you thinking?" he demanded. "The fight is over! We've won!"

Vegeta paid him no heed, and Goku felt a small stab of fear. The Saiyan prince was hurt and bleeding, but he had more _ki_ left to him than Goku did himself. If Vegeta decided to attack Piccolo, he would not be able to stop him. "I'll kill you, Namek!" the smaller Saiyan bellowed, curling his lips back and baring his teeth like an enraged animal. He balled his hands into fists, but he winced every time his breath hitched, with every stumble he took, with every pulse of his _ki_. Goku jumped to his feet and grimaced at the weight his broken shoulder supported.

"Vegeta, you idiot," Gohan yelled, "can't you see it's Piccolo now? Stay away from him!" He lifted himself to his feet as well and crouched protectively before Piccolo, which had the Namek mouthing a silent curse about being useless. Even with both Goku and Gohan standing in the way, Piccolo knew he was a dead man for certain. Neither Saiyan had the _ki_ to face off against Vegeta for very long, and he was just about finished. He could barely move, between shattered bones and the wicked burn down the back of his body.

_Is this how I am to die?_ he thought quietly.

Then, from behind the smug Saiyan, three separate _ki_s flared to life, and Tien, Yamcha, and Chiaotzu all leaped to their feet. Vegeta barely registered their _ki_ before they burst into action. Within seconds, the Saiyan was buried beneath a mass of human warriors, all of whom seemed intent on pummeling him into unconsciousness. Vegeta would never live this down.

Piccolo humphed, but Goku could see the gleam in his eyes. The downed Namek was enjoying this…not that he could blame him. But with Vegeta taken care of, as horribly amusing as it was, he needed to deal with Piccolo now. "Piccolo," he said quietly, "I told you once I'd be there if you needed me. Are you going to ask?"

The Namek made a noise that could have passed for a short laugh. "No…but I suppose it won't stop you from helping nonetheless." He heaved a sigh. "If you're offering, I will accept." At the overjoyed expressions that crossed both Goku's and Gohan's faces, he hastily added, "But only this time. And not in your house."

When Goku and Gohan both raised their eyes, Piccolo rolled his. _Perfect,_ he thought. _A bystander. Just what I needed. _A shadow fell across his face in the soft flickering of _ki_, and he scowled. Then he swore softly when he tilted his head back and saw Kami's familiar form looming overhead. "What do you want?" he growled. "Haven't you done enough?"

The Guardian winced at the harshness of the younger Namek's voice, but he supposed he deserved it. He hadn't been terribly kind to him when they did run into each other, and he had not come to the boy in his short childhood. He could not blame Piccolo for whatever treatment he was about to receive. It was not his fault. "I wanted to tell you that I'm glad you are back."

The silence on the Lookout was deafening.

Kami continued. "And I want to apologize for not trusting you, and for not coming to you sooner."

"Do you think I care?" Piccolo hissed after a moment. "If I had wanted anything from you I would have forced it out by now."

The Guardian bit back a harsh rejoinder. "I know that, Piccolo. And I do not expect anything from you. I merely want to say that I am proud of you."

Goku could see Piccolo stiffen on the ground, and he was certain Gohan had noticed it as well. He didn't know what to make of this, and he wasn't even the one being addressed! _Please, Piccolo,_ he pleaded silently, _please, just this once swallow your pride and thank him, or something! He really does care, he just has problems admitting it. Like you, actually. Just don't turn him away this time!_ He crossed his mental fingers and awaited the response.

Piccolo swallowed hard and blinked a few times, clearly having trouble absorbing the sentiment. Goku could only imagine what the man must have been thinking, and honestly, he did not want to know. Finally the Namek shook his head. "Then it's only polite to say thank you, isn't it?" he replied gruffly.

Kami nodded once, before a shout at the side of the Lookout drew his attention. _I guess that will have to do,_ Goku thought, tuning out Yajirobe's loud, belligerent racket at the Guardian's approach. Apparently Mr. Popo had been hiding somewhere below the Lookout and had decided to prematurely rescue the samurai. _It could have been worse._ When he caught the almost wistful expression on Piccolo's face, he was forced to rethink his opinion. "Piccolo, are you going to be okay?" he asked.

His voice started out distant, and Goku wanted to reach out for him. But he knew the risks of touching Piccolo, and having come this far without major mishap, he preferred to end this with all of his limbs more or less intact. "When has it mattered? It is the same as it has always been, and it will continue to be so. I'll live." Here the Namek's expression turned devious, and Goku could have sworn Piccolo was about to use Vegeta's famous smirk. "If two mutts, my sire, a mind-stealing demon, and your wife couldn't get rid of me, I doubt anything else will."

Much to his own surprise, Goku found himself wrapping his arms around the Namek, oblivious to his stained pants and Piccolo's injured body. True to self, Piccolo went rigid and hissed something in Namek – either an exclamation of pain or a startled curse, or both. _I'll be paying for this later, I expect,_ the Saiyan thought. _So I might as well get all my hugging done now. I'll never have this chance again._ He was not surprised when Gohan joined in. "Good," he whispered.

Goku felt something warm trickling down his face, and he grinned. This time it was neither rain nor blood, and for the first time in weeks, he knew everything would turn out all right.

_Sentimental idiot,_ Piccolo thought. Then he, too, found himself smiling, and he did not care that he was.  
  
- - - - -

So how's that for a nice, happy ending? The only thing left now is the epilogue, and my chance to be a sentimental sap with an end note.

I have decided, after some deliberation, to write a sequel. I've already begun work on it, but posting won't start for a few weeks.

And last but not least…a shameless advertisement! If you're a Namek fan, go visit namekshrine.uni.cc (add in the http:). It belongs to Devon Aster, one of the best writers I know, and she's done a good job with the site. I'm not going to spoil the surprise by telling you what you'll find there, so check it out when you get the chance.

-Dreamwraith


	36. Epilogue

This new formatting really sucks.

**Disclaimer:** If you've made it this far into the story and still think DBZ is mine, you need more sleep.

**Epilogue**

A green blur flashed through the sky and came to rest on the outcropping of rock beside the small waterfall, where its smudged form grew sharp and an outline became apparent. Folding its arms across its chest, the figure frowned up at the gathering clouds. They were obviously rain clouds, but there was more to them than that. Their presence, rather than soothing the mind as usual, caused a sense of dread.

If anyone could have grown accustomed to this by now, it would have been Piccolo.

The Namek almost welcomed the soft patter of rain against his skin. The sky was dark, the wind was moderate in strength, and Son Goku was not pressuring him to spar with him and test his strength. Only that man could have made him balk at the very thought of fighting. Training was one thing, but obsessing over how strong one's ex-nemesis had become was another, and Piccolo _knew_ that was what the Saiyan was doing. Kami knew he lived for the fight, but if Goku came around one more time this afternoon he would skin him alive. It would be interesting to try some day, another day with bleak weather and a dull atmosphere.

Piccolo smiled grimly at the thought. He might not get the chance.

Besides, Saiyan hides were tough, and he would rather not ruin his hands trying to pry the skin off of one.

That did not make the brewing tempest any more natural.

It had been two weeks since Shadow's destruction, and while convalescing Piccolo had noticed changes in the world around him. They were small, but they were still there. The quietest of corners held hushed whispers for the Demon King, each darkened room the quiet patter of feet. Shadows in the moonlight moved more than they ought. And when he crouched down, the soil beneath his fingertips seemed to crawl, and creatures alien to his world begged to be released. He found himself recoiling now from places and things he had once regarded as beautiful, natural.

He had become aware.

He tilted his head back and allowed the rain to trickle down his neck and the sides of his face and off the tips of his ears. If he opened his mouth, it would taste like sulfur. That he already knew from experience. But he did not know what else Daimao would be able to do. His sire's power was unknown to him. He could ask Goku, but he did not want to risk the Saiyan's pathetic attempts at subtly asking him for a spar.

Piccolo frowned again and turned his thoughts to himself. What would _he_ have done in his father's place? Or more likely, what would Shadow have made him do if he hadn't been torn away?

Set the world on fire.

Let it run with rivers of blood and scorching winds. Call every demon of Hell down upon the humans and enslave whomever they did not kill. Find a way to separate himself from Kami and kill the old fool.

Dispose of Son Goku and his progeny. Find a way to make himself stronger.

He rather liked the 'make himself stronger' and 'get the foolish old man out of the way' bits, and being responsible for the end of the world did have a certain appeal, but he admitted to himself that he couldn't bear to kill either Goku or Gohan. Not any more. Gohan was his first and best friend, and Goku appeared to be making himself into the second one.

Piccolo resisted the urge to roll his eyes and settled on closing them instead. Good Kami, what had he gotten himself into? "One hell of a dilemma," he growled quietly. "And you keep going back for more." _I would have been just fine if I had ignored Gohan and stayed in my own mind. I would have had true peace and quiet for the first time in years. No brat running around and dragging me with him. No brat to disturb my meditation. No brat to annoy me._ But he was forced to admit, again, that it was that same brat who had saved him, the boy who had shattered his shell and opened his eyes. The boy who had convinced him that there was at least one thing in his life that mattered.

That one thing was Gohan himself. And Piccolo knew, no matter what, that he could not leave Gohan, not while life still remained in his body.

Therein lay the problem: Daimao, and his unknown allies. They would stop at nothing to take his life, by either killing him or assimilating him into their little collective.

Piccolo was no fool. His sire was up to something, and if he was able to pull the necessary strings there would be trouble. The identity of his attacker from Baba's scrying ball was still unknown, a glaring weakness if he'd ever seen one, and for all intents and purposes he had to assume that whatever it was still had access to him.

A lesser man would have been terrified of that possible connection.

And of course, said lesser man would have been dead by now.

The Namek sighed and lowered his head. Most men would have never gotten themselves into this predicament in the first place. Goku's problem, for instance. Piccolo could have let the man fly off and confront the hybrids on his own. After all, it was his fault they came in the first place. All he needed to do was keep a low profile, and he could have lived in peace. But, no, he had to go and kill the most powerful creature in the universe, which drew the attention of every species in existence to him. Defective, they called him. Weak. Pathetic. Piccolo agreed with them after a fashion; Goku was the only man he had ever come across to spare his enemies and ask them nicely to reform.

Then there was this business with his sire. After years of no interference, no signs, Daimao suddenly decided he wanted his son to make good on his promise to avenge him. He sent his lackeys to force him to do what he was created to do if he did not cooperate.

Piccolo suddenly clenched both his fists and his teeth in anger. He was no pawn to be used as desired. He could think for himself, and he did. Daimao couldn't sway him to his side any more than he could persuade Goku to kill his own son. It was his choice, his will to do whatever he desired. He belonged to no one but himself!

But he could not afford to remain a rock for the rest of his life. The events of the past few weeks had proven it time and time again. He had nearly lost his mind because he had been too proud to admit he needed help. Had he been any weaker and Daimao any more persistent, he would have been buried in the recesses of his own mind and forced to watch the destruction the demon in his place would have wrought. It was a humbling experience, one he hoped fervently he wouldn't have to repeat.

_Curse it all!_ He gritted his teeth and growled under his breath. Their positions were locked, a stalemate of sorts, and he didn't like it one bit. Sooner or later one side would give, and all Hell would break loose, literally and figuratively. He would be ready for it, if he could. And Kami help anyone who stood in his way. Be it Son Goku, the Super Saiyan, or Vegeta, training feverishly in his gravity chamber, that person would regret it.

His grimace twisted into a devious grin. "Let him come," Piccolo hissed fiercely. "With an army, if need be. I'll be waiting for him."

"We all will."

(End.)

- - - - -

And that is the end of "From The Past". I can hardly believe how far it has come; I still have the index card that began it all, with a small blurb about Piccolo buying Goku time against two Saiyan warriors. I can only shake my head and wonder, good Lord, what was I thinking?

On a more serious note, I would like to thank all the people who reviewed this story, without whose help it would have crashed a long time ago – and who are also responsible for my compulsive e-mail checking. No matter how many times I have said it, if it was not for your constant encouragement, this story would never have made it to this site and most certainly would not have come this far. The feedback was priceless, and I must admit that trying to outthink a few of you became something to look forward to. Thank you.

I am also grateful that you, the reader, are reading this. It means that I must have done _something_ right, and even if you choose to not leave a review, I am still glad you've made it to the end.

Any further updates on this story will be done only to correct typos and formatting problems.

Well, what more is there to say? It's been a pleasure writing for such a wonderful crowd. Keep an eye out for the sequel, "Twilight of the Dawn", which should be started some time soon. So, 'til the next story,

-Dreamwraith


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